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THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


JOHN   WESLEY 


MAKERS  OF 


METHODISM 


BY 


W.  H.  WITHROW 


CINCINNATI :  CURTS  &  JENNINGS 
NEW  YORK:    EATON    &    MAINS 


Copyright  by  Eaton  &  Mains,  1898. 


The  General  Cabinet  of  the  Epworth  League,  who  select  the  books 
for  the  Epworth  League  Reading  Course,  thereby  commend  the  general 
thought  contained  in  them.  They  do  not  wish,  however,  to  be  held  respon- 
sible for  every  detail  of  treatment  and  statement  which  may  occur  in  the 
volumes.  EDWIN  A.  SCHELL,  General  Secretary. 


^T7 


CONTENTS 


CAI^ER  PA^^ 

I.    A  Foreword,  -        -        -    •    -        -       -        -  9 
II.    The  Condition  of  England  in  the  Time 

OK   THE   WESLEVS,        -           -           -           •           "  U 

III.  Susanna  Wesley,  ------  27 

IV.  John  and  Charles  Wesley— Founders  of 

Methodism, 47 

V.    John  Nelson,  the  Yorkshire  Mason,       -  98 

VI.     Silas  Told,  the  Prisoners'  Friend,          -  113 

VII.     George  Whitefield,    the    Great    Evan- 
gelist,       -        -        -        -        -        -        -  127 

VIII.    Selina,  Countess  of  Huntingdon,    -        -  150 

IX.    John  Fletcher  and  Mary  Bosanquet,    -  165 

X.    The   Beginnings    of   Methodism    ix   the 

New  World, 195 

XI.    Dr.    Coke,    the    Father    of    Methodist 

Missions,   -       -       -       -       .        -       -  216 

XII.    Francis  Asbury,  the  Pioneer  Bishop  of 

America,  -------  252 


XIII.    Some  Early  Preachers  and  Bishops  of 

American  Methodism    -       -       -       -    284 
5 


1 704789 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 

John  Wesley,         _.___-       Frouiispiece 

Susanna  Wesley,       _.___--  26 

Epworth  Rectory,          -------  35 

John  Wesley  at  the  Age  of  23,  -         -         -         -         -  48 

Christ  Church  College  and  Wolsey's  Gate,  Oxford,         -  51 

Entrance  to  Hall  of  Christ  Church  College,  Oxford,  -  53 

St.  Mary's  Church,  Oxford. 55 

Gateway  of  St.  Alary's  Church,  Oxford,       _         -         -  58 

John  Wesley  at  40,  -         -         -         -         -         -         -  68 

Interior  of  St.  Mary's  Churcli,  Oxford,  -         -         -         -  12) 

Radcliffe  Library,  Oxford,          _         _         _         .         .  75 

City  Road  Chapel,  London,   ------  78 

Wesley  in  His  Old  Age,    ------  87 

Charles  Wesley,         -------  91 

Wesley  Memorial  Tablet,  Westminster  Al)l)ey,      -  95-97 

George  Whitefield, 129 

Barbara  Heck,       -         -         -         -         -         -         -         -  '99 

Captain  Webb, -  205 

The  Rev.  Dr.  Thomas  Coke, 217 

Francis  Asbury,         -------  253 

Birthplace  of  Francis  Asbury,         -----  257 

Freeborn  Garrettson,     -------  285 

Bishop  Whatcoat, 298 

Bishop  McKendree, 300 

Bishop  Emory,  --------  308 

7 


MAKERS  OF  METHODISM 


A  Foreword 


Methodism  is,  in  a  very  special  sense,  the 
child  of  Providence.     It  is  a  happy  feature  in 
its  history  that  it  was  not  cradled  in  conflict, 
but  was  born  of  a  religious  revival.     The  origin 
of  the  Reformed  Churches  in  Bohemia,  in  Ger- 
many, in  Switzerland,  in  France,  in  the  Neth- 
erlands,   in    Scotland,  was  amid    the  throes  of 
civil  war.     This  gave  a  degree  of  hardness  to 
certain  aspects  of  religion  and  left  a  heritage  of 
bitter  memories.     While  it  developed  much  of 
moral  heroism,  it  also   developed  much  of  the 
sterner    side    of    our    nature,    and    sometimes 
evoked   vindictive    passions.     No   one    can    be 
familiar  with    the   stirring  tale  of  the  conflict 
between  Romanism  and  Protestantism  and  of 
the    strifes    between    different    sections    of   the 
Reformed  religion  without  seeing  and  lament- 
ing that  often  reproach  was  brought  upon  the 
cause  of  Christ  by  the  passionate  zeal  and  lack 
of  charity  of  Christian  men.     Persecution  upon 


Makers  of  Methodism 

one  side  sometimes  led  to  persecution  on  the 
other.  Even  the  valor  and  fidelity  of  such 
heroes  as  Ziska  and  Gustavus  Adolphus,  of 
William  the  Silent  and  Admiral  Coligny,  of 
Cromwell  and  Knox,  of  Zwingle  and  of  Duke 
Maurice  of  Saxony,  were  not  unmarred  by  ele- 
ments of  human  harshness  and  infirmity. 

But,  in  the  providence  of  God,  Methodism 
had  a  milder  and  happier  development.  Not 
that  it  was  without  persecution  and  suffering. 
It  had  enough  of  both  to  develop  the  grandest 
heroism,  the  most  intrepid  fortitude,  and  the 
noblest  endurance  even  unto  death.  Yet  it 
never  appealed  to  the  sword.  Like  the  great 
founder  of  Christianity,  it  turned  its  cheek  to 
the  smiter ;  it  suffered  with  a  quietness  of  spirit 
the  very  tyranny  and  rage  of  its  foes.  No 
tinge  of  iconoclastic  zeal  or  of  retaliating 
sternness   mars   the    saintly    character    of    the  ! 

Wesleys  and  their  fellow-helpers.     Their  spirit 
was  that  of  St.  John,  breathing   the  benedic- 
tions of  love.     The  motto  of  John  Wesley  was  | 
typical  of  his  life  and  ministry :    ' '  With  charity 
to  all,  with  malice  to  none." 

Methodism  was  first  of  all  a  revival  of  pure  j 

religion  in  the  hearts  of  a  group  of  earnest 
young  students  of  Oxford  University.  They 
had  no  wish  to  create  a  new  sect  or  to  make 
war  upon  the  Church  they  loved.     They  sought 

lO 


A  Foreword 

its  spiritual  awakening  and  refonnation.  They 
preached  from  the  parish  pulpits,  and  when 
thrust  from  the  Church  of  their  fathers  they 
preached  on  their  fathers'  graves,  on  the  village 
common,  in  the  market  place,  and  by  the  way- 
side. 

Methodism  was  not  the  result  of  political 
exigencies  or  of  ecclesiastical  councils.  It  was 
not  framed  by  kings  or  potentates,  by  bishops 
or  priests.  Like  its  blessed  Lord,  it  was  born 
in  lowliness,  and  grew  in  favor  with  God  and 
with  man.  Many  different  types  of  character 
were  among  the  agents  wdiom  God  used  in  its 
development — the  lofty  and  the  lowly,  the 
gentle  and  the  simple,  the  learned  and  the 
illiterate,  the  rich  and  the  poor.  Among  its 
founders  were  some  of  the  most  scholarly  fel- 
lows of  Oxford.  Among  its  faithful  preachers 
were  also  "unlearned  and  ignorant  men,"  as 
the  world  measures  learning.  There  were  such 
men  as  John  Nelson,  the  Yorkshire  mason;  as 
vSilas  Told,  the  converted  sailor;  as  Samuel 
Bradburn,  the  shoemaker's  apprentice;  as  John 
Hunt,  the  rustic  plowman ;  and  as  Francis 
Asbury,  the  blacksmith's  assistant.  From  the 
lowly  walks  of  life  came  many  of  the  boldest 
soldiers  of  this  new  crusade — men  who,  like 
the  herdsman  of  Tekoa,  came  from  following 

the  oxen  and  the  plow ;   men  from  the  smithy 

II 


Makers  of  Methodism 

and  the  loom ;  husbandmen  and  fishermen, 
like  the  first  disciples  of  our  Lord ;  men  from 
the  mine  and  from  the  moor.  Yet  were  there 
also  those  of  wealth  and  noble  rank,  as  Lord 
Dartmouth,  Lord  St.  John,  Mary  Bosanquet, 
and  the  Countess  of  Huntingdon,  and  others  in 
high  places  who,  like  the  Magi,  laid  their 
wealth  and  titles  at  the  feet  of  Jesus. 

But,  for  the  most  part,  this  great  revival 
came  with  its  revelations  of  love  to  the  souls  of 
the  poor.  The  common  people  heard  it  gladly. 
To  the  great  heart  of  suffering  humanity — bur- 
dened with  its  sorrows  and  its  sins,  with  its 
sordid  cares  as  to  what  it  should  eat,  and  what 
it  should  drink,  and  wherewithal  it  should  be 
clothed ;  with  its  immortal  hunger  which  the 
husks  of  this  world  could  not  satisfy ;  with  its 
divine  thirst  that  the  broken  cisterns  of  earthly 
pleasure  could  not  appease — came  the  emanci- 
pating message  of  salvation,  came  the  bread  of 
heaven  and  the  water  of  life.  "  For  ye  see 
your  calling,  brethren,  how  that  not  many  wise 
men  after  the  flesh,  not  many  mighty,  not  many 
noble,  are  called:  but  God  hath  chosen  the 
foolish  thinors  of  the  world  to  confound  the 
wise ;  and  God  hath  chosen  the  weak  things  of 
the  world  to  confound  the  things  which  are 
mighty." 

In  the  pages  that  follow  we  shall  select  a  few 


12 


A  Foreword 

examples  of  the  noble  men  and  women  whom 
God  raised  up  on  both  sides  of  the  sea  to  carry 
out  his  purposes  of  grace — to  perform  a  great 
work  in  the  world. 

We  cannot  attempt  anything  like  a  complete 
history  of  the  great  world-movement  of  IMeth- 
odism.  That  would  require  many  volumes 
larger  than  this.  The  selection  of  certain 
Makers  of  Methodism  involves  the  omission  of 
others  perhaps  as  noteworthy  as  some  whom 
we  present.  We  have  endeavored  to  maintain 
historic  sequence,  although  the  periods  treated 
have  of  necessity,  in  some  cases,  overlapped. 
The  study  of  a  few  prominent  actors  in  this 
great  movement  will  illustrate  its  spirit  as  a 
whole,  will  give  unity  and  interest  to  the  nar- 
rative, and  will  prevent  the  distraction  caused 
by  the  attempted  characterization  of  a  great 
number  of  persons. 

As  to  authorities,  we  are  chiefly  indebted  to 
the  biographers  of  the  several  persons  here 
sketched ;  to  Bangs's,  vStevens's,  and  Buckley's 
histories  of  Methodism  ;  to  the  autobiographies 
of  Mary  Bosanquet,  John  Nelson,  Jesse  Lee, 
Nathan  Bangs,  and  others ;  to  Tyerman's  JFcs- 
Icy,  and  to  many  review  and  encyclopaedia 
articles. 


13 


Makers  of  Methodism 


II 

The    Condition    of    England  in    the  Time  of  the 

Wesleys 

It  is  difficult  to  get  a  clear  conception  of  the 
conditions  amid  which  Methodism  won  its 
earliest  triumphs.  We  may  best  succeed  by 
comparing  them  with  the  conditions  of  to-day. 
The  contrast  between  the  tinder  box  and 
tallow  dip  of  the  last  century  and  the  lucifer 
match  and  the  electric  light,  between  the  lum- 
bering coach  or  carrier's  cart  and  the  express 
train  and  electric  trolley,  is  typical  of  much 
moral  as  well  as  material  progress.  The  won- 
derful invention  of  Watt,  the  greatest  of  the 
eighteenth  century,  has  more  than  realized  the 
wildest  legends  of  Aladdin's  lamp  and  the 
magician's  ring.  Applied  to  the  printing  press 
it  has  given  wings  to  knowledge  wherewith  it 
may  fly  to  the  ends  of  the  earth. 

A  journey  to  Land's  End  or  to  John  O'Groat's 
House  a  hundred  years  ago  was  as  difficult  as 
one  to  St.  Petersburg  or  to  Constantinople  is 
now.  Clive's  great  Indian  victory  was  unknown 
at  the  company's  office  in  London  for  many 
months  after  it  was  achieved  ;  to-day  the  tidings 

14 


Condition  of  England 

of  an  irruption  of  the  hill  tribes  of  India  or  of  a 
revolt  of  the  Mahrattas  throbs  along  the  electric 
nerve  of  the  world  from  Calcutta  to  Vancouver. 
The  people  of  Shetland  were  found  praying  for 
George  II  when  his  successor  had  been  a  year 
on  the  throne ;  to-day  the  queen's  speech  is 
hawked  about  the  streets  of  :Montreal  and 
Chicago  on  the  very  day  it  wakes  the  applause 
of  St.  Stephen's  palace,  and  the  President's 
message  is  read  simultaneously  in  London  and 
San  Francisco.  We  are  disappointed  if  last 
evening's  news  from  Bucharest  and  Vienna, 
from  Paris  and  Berlin,  from  Peking  and  Tokyo, 
with  yesterday's  quotations  from  the  bourses  of 
Frankfort  and  Hamburg  and  the  exchanges  of 
Chicago  and  New  York,  are  not  served  with  the 
coffee  and  toast  at  breakfast. 

A  century  ago  books  and  newspapers  were 
the  luxury  of  the  few ;  they  are  now  the  neces- 
sity of  all.  No  man  of  his  age  did  more  than 
John  Wesley  to  give  a  cheap  literature,  that 
characteristic  of  our  times,  to  the  people.  He 
wrote  himself  one  hundred  and  eighty-one  dif- 
ferent works,  two  thirds  of  which  sold  for  less 
than  a  shilling  each.  They  comprised  histories, 
dictionaries,  and  grammars  of  several  languages, 
editions  of  the  classics,  and  the  like.  He  estab- 
lished the  first  religious  magazine  in  England. 
His  manly  independence  hastened  the  abolition 

15 


Makers  of  Methodism 

of  the  literary  patronage  of  titled  know-noth- 
ings and  of  obsequious  dedications  to  the  great. 
He  appealed  directly  to  the  patronage  of  the 
people,  and  found  them  more  munificent  than 
Augustus  or  Maecenas,  than  Leo  X  or  Lorenzo 
the  Magnificent,  He  anticipated  Raikes  by 
several  years  in  the  establishment  of  Sunday 
schools.  The  Tract  Society  and  the  Society 
for  the  Diffusion  of  Christian  Knowledge  but 
carried  out  more  fully  the  plans  of  usefulness 
which  he  had  inaugurated.  In  imitation  of  the 
Moravian  Brethren  he  also  actively  promoted 
the  cause  of  Christian  missions,  but  these  were 
only  the  germs  of  those  magnificent  enterprises 
which,  in  our  time,  have  brought  forth  such 
glorious  fruit.  The  present  century  is  espe- 
cially the  age  of  missions.  Never  since  the 
days  of  the  apostles  have  men  exhibited  such 
tireless  energy,  such  quenchless  zeal,  in  going 
forth  to  preach  the  Gospel  to  every  creature. 
The  miracle  of  Pentecost  seems  repeated,  as  by 
means  of  the  various  Bible  societies  men  of 
every  land  can  read  in  their  own  tongue, 
wherein  they  were  born,  the  word  of  God. 

The  condition  of  public  and  private  morals 
during  the  early  part  of  the  eighteenth  century 
was  deplorable.  The  veteran  premier  Walpole 
unblushingly  asserted  the  doctrine  that  every 

man  has  his  price ;  and  his  conduct  was  con- 

i6 


Condition  of  England 

formable  to  his  theory.  Borough-mongering 
was  openly  practiced,  and  places  at  court  and 
in  the  Church,  in  the  army  and  navy,  were 
shamelessly  bought  and  sold.  It  was  by  no 
means  uncommon  to  find  ensigns  in  the  cradle, 
who  grew  to  be  colonels  in  their  teens.  "  Carry 
the  major  his  pap  "  was  a  byword.  Charles 
Phillips  states  that  one  of  Provost  Hutchinson's 
daughters  was  gazetted  a  major  of  a  cavalry 
regiment. 

Few  things  are  more  painful  to  contemplate 
than  the  moral  obtuseness  of  the  court  of  the 
early  Georges.  From  the  king  to  the  lackey 
there  seems  to  have  been  an  almost  entire  ab- 
sence of  moral  sense.  The  card  table  was  the 
main  resource  from  ennui.  Faded  dowagers  sat 
late  into  the  night  playing  the  magic  cards. 
The  Newmarket  races  were  the  haunt  of  prof- 
ligacy and  vice.  So  also  were  the  favorite  re- 
sorts of  Bath  and  Tunbridge  Wells.  Immense 
sums  were  lost  and  won  in  bets.  The  fash- 
ionable literature  to  be  found  in  fine  ladies' 
boudoirs  was  such  as  few  now  care  to  acknowl- 
edge having  read.  Intemperance  was  a  pre- 
vailing vice.  No  class  was  free  from  its  con- 
tamination. The  ermine  of  the  judge  and  the 
cassock  of  the  priest  were  alike  polluted  by  the 
degrading   practice.     The    dissipation    of    the 

lower  classes  was  almost  incredible.     Smollett 

17 


Makers  of  Methodism 

tells  us  that  over  many  of  the  spirit-vaults  in 
the  streets  of  London  might  be  seen  the  in- 
scription, "  Drunk  for  a  penny;  dead  drunk  for 
twopence;  straw  (to  sober  off  on)  for  nothing." 
Profane  swearing  was  awfully  prevalent.  The 
judge  swore  upon  the  bench,  the  lawyer  swore 
in  addressing  the  jury,  the  fine  lady  swore  over 
her  cards,  and  it  is  even  said  that  those  who 
wore  the  surplice  swore  over  their  wine.  "  The 
nation  was  clothed  with  cursing  as  with  a  gar- 
ment." The  profligacy  of  the  soldiers  and 
sailors  was  proverbial.  The  barrack  room  and 
ship's  forecastle  were  scenes  of  grossest  vice,  for 
which  the  cruel  floggings  inflicted  were  an  in- 
efficient restraint.  Robbers  waylaid  the  traveler 
on  Hounslow  Heath  and  footpads  assailed  him 
in  the  streets  of  London.  In  the  northern  part 
of  the  island  reaving,  raiding,  and  harrying 
cattle  still  often  occurred.  On  the  southwest- 
ern coast,  before  the  Methodist  revival,  wreck- 
ing— that  is,  enticing  ships  upon  the  rocks  by 
the  exhibition  of  false  signals — was  a  constant 
occurrence,  and  was  frequently  followed  b)^  the 
murder  of  the  shipwrecked  mariners.  Although 
the  mining  population  of  the  kingdom  was 
greatly  benefited  by  the  labors  of  the  Wesleys 
and  their  coadjutors,  still  their  condition  was 
deplorable.  Many  were  in  a  condition  of  gross- 
est   ignorance,   their  homes  wretched    hovels, 


Condition  of  England 

their  toil  excessive  and  far  more  dangerous  than 
now,  their  amusements  brutalizing  in  their  ten- 
dency. Even  women  and  children  underwent 
the  drudgery  of  the  mine.  For  no  class  of 
society  has  IMethodism  done  more  than  for 
these. 

The  introduction  of  gas  has  greatly  restricted 
midnight  crime  in  the  cities.  A  hundred  years 
ago  they  were  miserably  dark,  lit  only  by  oil 
lamps  hung  across  the  streets.  Link  boys 
offered  to  escort  the  traveler  with  torches. 
Riotous  city  "Alohawks"  haunted  the  streets 
at  midnight,  roaring  drunken  songs,  assaulting 
belated  passengers,  and  beating  drowsy  watch- 
men, who  went  their  rounds  with  a  "  lanthorn  " 
and  duly  announced  the  hour  of  the  night — 
unless  they  were  themselves  asleep.  Bear  and 
badeer  baiting  was  a  favorite  amusement,  as 
was  also  prize  fighting.  Even  women,  forget- 
ting their  natural  pitifulness  and  modesty, 
fought  in  the  ring. 

One  of  the  greatest  evils  of  the  time  was  the 
condition  of  the  laws  affecting  marriage.  Prior 
to  1754  a  marriage  could  be  celebrated  by  a 
priest  in  orders  at  any  time  or  place,  without 
notice,  consent  of  parents,  or  record  of  any 
kind.  Such  marriages  fell  into  the  hands  of 
needy  and  disreputable  clergymen,  who  were 
always  to  be  found  in  or  about  the  Fleet  Prison, 

19 


Makers  of  Methodism 

where  they  were  or  had  been  confined  for  debt. 
It  was  proved  before  Parliament  that  there  had 
been  2,954  Fleet  marriages  in  four  months. 
One  of  these  Fleet  parsons  married  173  couples 
in  a  single  day.  The  scandal  reached  its  worst 
in  the  seaports  when  a  fleet  arrived,  and  the 
sailors  were  married,  says  Lecky,  in  platoons. 

The  state  of  religion  previous  to  the  Wes- 
leyan  revival  was  deplorable.  Even  of  pro- 
fessed theologians  but  few  were  faithful  to  their 
sacred  trust,  and  these  bemoaned,  with  a  feel- 
ing akin  to  that  of  Nehemiah  and  the  exiled 
Jews,  that  the  house  of  the  Lord  was  laid  waste. 
One  of  these,  the  venerable  Archbishop  Leigh- 
ton,  of  pious  memory,  in  pathetic  terms  laments 
over  the  national  Church  as  "a  fair  carcase  with- 
out spirit."  A  sneering  skepticism  pervaded 
the  writings  of  Bolingbroke  and  Hobbes,  of 
Hume  and  Gibbon.  The  principles  of  French 
philosophy  were  affecting  English  thought.  In 
the  universities  a  mediaeval  scholasticism  pre- 
vailed. Even  the  candidates  for  holy  orders 
were  ignorant  of  the  Gospels.  A  hireling  priest- 
hood often  dispensed  the  ordinances  of  the 
Church,  attaching  more  importance  to  mere 
forms  than  to  the  spirit  of  the  Gospel — to  the 
wearing  of  a  surplice  than  to  the  adorning  of 
the  inner  man.     Some  of  them  were  more  at 

home  at  the  races,  at  a  cockpit,  at  a  hunting 

20 


Condition  of  England 

or  a  drinking  party,  than  in  their  study  or  their 
closet.  It  must  not,  however,  be  supposed  that 
there  were  no  redeeming-  features  to  this  dark 
picture.  The  names  of  Butler,  Lowth,  Watts, 
and  Doddridge  would  cast  a  luster  over  any  age. 
But  they,  alas,  only  made  the  surrounding  dark- 
ness seem  more  dark. 

At  this  time  the  Wesleys  entered  upon  their 
sacred  mission.  They  carried  the  tidings  of 
salvation  to  regions  where  it  was  before  un- 
known. Amid  markets,  fair  grounds,  and  coal 
pits  they  boldly  proclaimed  their  message.  On 
the  mountains  of  Wales,  among  the  tin  mines 
of  Cornwall,  on  the  chalk  downs  of  Surrey,  in  the 
hop  fields  of  Kent,  in  the  fenlands  of  Lincoln- 
shire, in  the  cornfields  of  Huntingdon,  on  the 
wolds  of  Wiltshire,  and  among  the  lakes  of 
Cumberland  they  proclaimed  the  joyful  tidings 
to  eager  thousands.  They  adapted  themselves 
to  the  capacity  of  miners  and  pitmen,  of  un- 
couth rustics  and  rude  fishermen.  They  recog- 
nized in  the  ignorant  and  embruted  the  sublime 
dignity  of  manhood.  From  the  ranks  of  those 
who  were  rescued  from  degradation  and  sin 
arose  a  noble  band  of  fellow-workers — earnest- 
souled  and  fiery-hearted  men  ;  men  who  feared 
not  death  nor  danger,  the  love  of  Christ  con- 
straining them. 

Nor  was  this  new  apostolate  without  confess- 

21 


Makers  of  Methodism 

ors  unto  blood  and  martyrs  unto  death.  They 
were  stoned,  they  were  beaten  with  cudgels, 
they  were  dragged  through  the  kennels,  and 
some  died  of  their  wounds.  They  were  every- 
where spoken  against.  Even  bishops,  as  War- 
burton  and  Lavington,  assailed  them  with  the 
coarsest  and  most  scurrilous  invective.  But, 
like  the  rosemary  and  thyme,  which,  "  the  more 
they  be  incensed,"  to  use  the  words  of  Bacon, 
' '  the  more  they  give  forth  their  sweetest  odors," 
so  those  holy  lives,  under  the  heel  of  persecu- 
tion, sent  forth  a  sacred  incense  unto  God  whose 
perfume  is  fragrant  throughout  the  world  to- 
day. Thus  the  influence  spread  till  its  great 
oriofinator  ceased  at  once  to  work  and  live. 

The  penal  code  of  England  in  the  eighteenth 
century  was  of  savage  ferocity.  Its  laws,  like 
those  of  Draco,  were  written  in  blood.  The 
death  penalty  was  inflicted  not  only  for  murder, 
but  also  for  treason,  forgery,  theft,  and  smug- 
gling; and  it  was  often  inflicted  with  aggrava- 
tine  terrors.  Amons:  the  causes  of  the  increase 
of  robbers  Fielding  lays  much  stress  on  the 
frequency  of  executions,  their  publicity,  and 
their  habitual  association  in  the  popular  mind 
with  notions  of  pride  and  vanity,  instead  of 
guilt,  degradation,  or  shame. 

The  turnkeys  of  Newgate  were  said  to  have 
made   i^200  by  showing  Jack   Sheppard.     Dr. 


Condition  of  England 

Dodd  was  exhibited  for  two  hours  in  the  press 
room  at  a  shilling  a  head  before  he  was  led  to 
the  gallows.  The  criminal  sentenced  to  death 
was  encouraged  and  aided  to  put  a  brave  face  on 
the  matter,  and  act  on  the  maxim,  Carpc  dicni — 
' '  Eat,  drink,  and  be  merry,  for  to-morrow  we  die. " 
Boys  under  twelve  were  hanged  for  participation 
in  the  Gordon  riots  of  1780.  Mentioning  the 
circumstance  of  Rogers,  Mr.  Grenville  rather 
naively  added :  "I  never  in  my  life  saw  boys  cry 
so."  "When  Blackstone  wrote,"  says  Mr.  Lecky, 
"  there  were  no  less  than  one  hundred  and  sixty 
offenses  in  England  punishable  with  death,  and 
it  was  a  very  ordinary  occurrence  for  ten  or 
twelve  culprits  to  be  hung  on  a  single  occasion, 
for  forty  or  fifty  to  be  condemned  at  a  single 
assize." 

Persons  now  living  can  remember  the  gibbet- 
inof  of  murderers  till  the  ravens  devoured  their 
flesh  and  their  bones  rattled  in  the  wind.  Politi- 
cal offenders  were  still  more  harshly  dealt  with. 
The  gory  heads  of  knights  and  peers  were  im- 
paled on  Temple  Bar  and  their  dismembered 
limbs  on  London  Bridge. 

Suicides  were  thrown  into  dishonored  way- 
side eraves,  transfixed  with  stakes,  and  crushed 
with  stones.  The  pillory  and  stocks  still  stood 
on  the  village  green.  Flogging  was  publicly 
inflicted  by  the  beadle  of  the  parish.     The  num- 

23 


Makers  of  Methodism 

ber  of  executions  was  enormous.  In  1785,  in 
London  alone,  it  was  ninety-seven.  After  a 
jail  delivery  at  Newgate  scores  of  miserable 
wretches  were  dragged  on  hurdles  up  Tyburn 
Hill  amid  the  shouts  and  jeers  of  a  ribald  mob, 
who  either  mocked  the  mortal  agonies  of  the  cul- 
prits or  exhorted  their  favorites  to  "  die  game," 
as  the  phrase  was. 

Those  exhibitions,  so  far  were  they  from  de- 
terring, actually  promoted  vice.  Mountebanks, 
gamblers,  and  jugglers  plied  their  nefarious 
callings  under  the  very  shadow  of  the  gallows 
and  in  the  awful  presence  of  death.  On  the 
outskirts  of  the  throng  John  Wesley  or  Silas 
Told  often  exhorted  the  multitude  to  prepare  for 
the  great  assize  and  the  final  judgment. 

The  condition  of  the  prisons  was  infamous. 
Prisoners  for  debt  were  even  worse  lodged  than 
condemned  felons,  and  both  were  exposed  to 
the  cupidity  and  cruelty  of  a  brutal  jailer.  In 
1773  John  Howard  was  appointed  sheriff  of 
Bedford.  The  horrible  state  of  the  prison 
pierced  his  soul.  He  forthwith  burrowed  in  all 
the  dungeons  in  Europe  and  dragged  their  abom- 
inations to  light.  They  were  the  lairs  of  pesti- 
lence and  plague.  Men  were  sentenced  not  to 
prison  only,  but  also  to  rheumatism  and  typhus. 
Howard  bearded  the  fever  demon  in  his  den  and 

fell  a  victim  to  his  philanthropy,  but  through 

24 


Condition  of  England 

his  efforts  and  those  of  Mrs.  Fry,  Fowell  Bux- 
ton, and  others  a  great  reform  in  the  state  of 
prisons  has  taken  place.  Methodism  did  much 
for  the  prisoners.  The  Wesleys  sedulously 
visited  them,  and  Silas  Told,  the  sailor  convert 
of  John  Wesley,  gave  himself  exclusively  to  this 
work. 

In  the  following  pages  we  will  sketch  briefly 
some  of  the  Makers  of  Methodism  ;  some  of  the 
men  and  women  who  in  the  providence  of  God 
were  to  change  the  moral  aspect  of  Great 
Britain  ;  who  were  to  save  the  kingdom  from 
an  eclipse  of  faith  and  a  possible  carnival  of 
blood  akin  to  the  French  Revolution,  which 
overturned  both  throne  and  altar  in  the  dust ; 
who  were  to  impress  upon  the  age,  both  in  the 
Old  World  and  the  New,  the  stamp  of  a  higher 
Christian  civilization ;  who  were  to  go  forth 
with  a  passionate  charity  to  remember  the  for- 
gotten, to  visit  the  forsaken,  to  lift  up  the  fallen 
from  a  condition  little  better  than  that  of  beasts 
to  the  dignity  of  men  and  the  fellowship  of 
saints ;  who  were  to  carry  the  everlasting  Gos- 
pel to  earth's  darkest  and  remotest  bounds; 
who  were  to  bring  to  the  dull  ear  of  the  world 

"  The  songs  of  the  Holy  City, 
The  chimes  of  eternal  peace." 


25 


SUSANNA   WESLEY. 

"The  Mother  of  Methodism. 


Susanna  Wesley 


III 

Sosanna  Wesley 

The  record  of  woman's  work  and  woman's 
influence  in  the  Christian  Church  forms  one  of 
the  noblest  and  most  inspiring-  chapters  in  its 
history.  No  branch  of  the  Church  has  been 
richer  in  holy  and  devoted  women  than  has 
Methodism.  To  mention  only  a  few  of  the 
illustrious  names  of  its  early  years,  we  have 
Susanna  Wesley ;  Selina,  Countess  of  Hunting- 
don ;  Lady  Maxwell ;  Mary  Fletcher ;  Grace 
Murray ;  Dinah  Evans,  the  heroine  of  Adam 
Bede  ;  and  Barbara  Heck,  the  foundress  of  Aleth- 
odism  in  both  the  United  States  and  Canada. 

One  of  the  most  notable  of  these,  and  most 
influential  on  the  destiny  of  Methodism,*  was 
Susanna  Wesley.  She  fulfills  the  poet's  ideal 
of  true  womanhood  : 

"A  perfect  woman,  nol)ly  planned 
To  warn,  to  comfort,  and  command  ; 
And  yet  a  spirit  still,  and  bright 
With  something  of  an  angel  light." 


*  "The  niotlier  of  the  Wesleys,"  says  Southey,  "was  also  the  Mother  of 
Methodism." 

27 


Makers  of  Methodism 

In  the  quiet  rectory  at  Epworth,  often  amid 
straitened  circtimstances  and  manifold  house- 
hold cares,  she  molded  the  character  of  those 
distinguished  sons  who  were  destined  to  orig- 
inate a  ofreat  religious  movement  which  should 
regenerate  the  age  in  which  they  lived,  and 
send  its  waves  of  beneficent  influence  to  farthest 
shores  and  remotest  times. 

In  the  eyes  of  some  it  will  be  a  feature  of 
additional  interest  in  the  history  of  Susanna 
Wesley  that  she  was  "nobly  related,"  but 
no  circumtances  of  rank  or  birth  can  increase 
the  luster  of  her  character.  She  was  the 
daughter  of  Dr.  vSamuel  Annesley,  who  was  a 
nephew  of  the  Earl  of  Anglesea,  a  noble  lord 
whose  pedigree  goes  back  to  the  Norman  con- 
quest. Her  father  was  noted  at  Oxford  for  his 
piety  and  zeal.  He  entered  the  ministry  of  the 
national  Church  and  acted  as  a  chaplain  at  sea. 
He  subsequently  preached  in  Kent  and  in  two 
of  the  largest  congregations  in  London,  and 
was  also  lecturer  at  St,  Paul's. 

When  the  Act  of  Uniformity  was  passed,  in 

1662,  Dr.  Annesley  was  one  of  the  two  thousand 

English  rectors  and  vicars  who,  for  their  fidelity 

to  the  dictates  of  conscience,  were  driven  from 

their  parishes  and  were  persecuted  throughout 

the  realm.   He  became  a  prominent  leader  among 

the   ejected  Nonconformists,  preaching    almost 

28 


Susanna  Wesley 

daily  and  finding  food  and  shelter  for  many  of 
his  impoverished  brethren.  After  a  half-cen- 
tury's service  and  many  sore  trials,  from  which 
he  never  shrank,  he  died  on  the  last  day  of  the 
year  1696,  exclaiming,  "  I  shall  be  satisfied  with 
thy  likeness;  satisfied — satisfied."  He  was  be- 
loved and  revered  by  all  who  knew  him  ;  and  on 
her  deathbed,  his  noble  relative,  the  Countess  of 
Anglesea,  requested  to  be  buried  in  his  grave. 

From  such  pious  parentage  was  Susanna 
Wesley  descended.  The  energy  of  character 
and  intellectual  visfor  which  she  inherited  she 
transmitted  to  her  illustrious  sons.  She  re- 
ceived under  her  father's  care  an  education 
superior  to  that  of  most  young  women  of  her 
own  or,  indeed,  of  the  present  time.  She  was 
acquainted  with  the  Greek,  Latin,  and  French 
languages,  and  exhibited  a  discriminative  judg- 
ment of  books.  An  illustration  of  her  early 
maturity  of  thought  and  independence  of  char- 
acter is  seen  in  the  fact  that,  before  her  thir- 
teenth year,  she  had  examined  the  ground  of 
controversy  between  churchmen  and  dissenters. 
She  adopted  the  principles  of  the  Established 
Church,  and  renounced  the  views  on  account  of 
which  her  father  had  been  driven  from  the 
parish  and  for  which  he  had  espoused  a  life  of 
suffering    and    persecution.     This    change    of 

opinion,    however,     produced    no    interruption 
3  29 


Makers  of  Methodism 

of   the    loving   intercourse    between  the  affec- 
tionate father  and  his  favorite  child. 

Miss  Annesley,  about  the  year  1689,  being 
then  in  her  nineteenth  or  twentieth  year,  was 
married  to  the  Rev.  Samuel  Wesley,  the  hard- 
working curate  of  a  London  parish,  who  was  in 
receipt  of  an  income  of  only  thirty  pounds  a 
year.  The  Wesle3^s  were  also  an  ancient  fam- 
ily; probably,  as  is  inferred  from  the  "scallop 
shell  "  upon  their  coat  of  arms,  descended  from 
crusading  ancestors.  It  is  remarkable  that 
both  the  father  and  grandfather  of  the  Rev. 
Samuel  Wesley  were  clergymen  of  the  Estab- 
lished Church,  who,  refusing  to  obey  the  Act 
of  Uniformity,  were  driven  from  their  homes 
and  pulpits.  By  the  Five  Mile  Act  they  were 
prohibited  from  approaching  their  former  par- 
ishes or  any  borough  town.  Driven  from  place 
to  place,  fugitives  and  outcasts  for  conscience' 
sake,  they  preached  wherever  the}?'  could,  en- 
during persecutions  similar  to  those  with  which 
the  early  Methodists  were  afterward  so  fa- 
miliar. Four  times  was  the  father  of  Samuel 
Wesley  thrown  into  prison — once  for  six  and 
again  for  three  months ;  and  at  length  he  sank 
into  the  grave  at  the  early  age  of  thirty-four. 
His  aged  father,  heart-broken  by  his  griefs  and 
sorrows,  soon  followed  him  to  heaven.  Of 
such  godly  stock,  on  the  side  of  both  father  and 

30 


Susanna  Wesley 

mother,  familiar  with  persecutions  and  strength- 
ened in  character  by  trial  and  sufferings,  was 
the  founder  of  Methodism  born. 

A  portrait  of  Susanna  Wesley,  taken  not  long 
after  her  marriage,  presents  a  fair  young  face, 
with  delicate  features,  of  refined  expression 
and  almost  classic  regularity  of  outline,  and 
with  bright,  vivacious  eyes.  A  profusion  of 
long  and  curling  hair  adorns  a  head  of  singu- 
larly graceful  pose,  "  not  without  an  air,"  says 
Dr.  Abel  Stevens,  "  of  the  high-bred  aristocracy 
from  which  she  was  descended."  A  beautiful 
hand  and  arm  support  a  book  upon  her  breast. 
Her  dress  is  simple,  yet  tasteful,  like  that  of  a 
well-bred  lady  of  the  period,  equally  removed 
from  the  worldly  fashions  of  the  time  and  from 
the  ascetic  severity  which  characterized  some 
of  the  women  of  early  Methodism.  Dr.  Adam 
Clarke  describes  her  as  not  only  graceful,  but 
beautiful.  One  of  her  sisters  was  painted  by 
Sir  Peter  Lely  as  one  of  the  "  beauties  "  of  the 
age,  but  she  is  admitted  to  have  been  less 
refined  in  feature  than  Mrs.  Wesley. 

But  the  more  enduring  attractions  of  her 
well-stored  mind,  and  of  her  amiable  and  pious 
disposition,  surpassed  even  those  of  her  person. 
She  possessed  a  correct  literary  taste  and  sound 
judgment.  She  projected  several  literary  works, 
which,  however,  the  duties  of  a  busy  life  pre- 

31 


Makers  of  Methodism 

vented  her  carrying  into  effect.  Among  these 
was  one  on  natural  and  revealed  religion,  com- 
prising her  reasons  for  renouncing  Dissent,  and 
a  discourse  on  the  Eucharist.  A  fragment, 
which  is  still  extant,  on  the  Apostles'  Creed, 
"would  not,"  says  a  competent  critic,  "have 
been  discreditable  to  the  theological  literature 
of  the  day." 

Her  sincere  and  earnest  piety  was  her  most 
striking  characteristic.  She  nourished  her  soul 
by  daily  meditation  on  the  word  of  God  and  by 
prayer.  To  this  purpose  an  hour  every  morn- 
ing and  evening  were  devoted.  Her  letters  to 
her  children  and  her  counsel  to  her  sons  on 
questions  of  grave  religious  importance  evince 
at  once  the  clearness  and  the  correctness  of  her 
judgment.  The  respect  with  which  her  views 
were  received  by  her  cultured  and  filial  sons 
proves  the  weight  which  they  attached  to  her 
opinions. 

The  poetical  faculty  with  which  John  and 
especially  Charles  Wesley  were  so  highly  en- 
dowed was  derived  from  their  father  rather 
than  from  their  mother,  who  has  left  no  special 
proof  of  talent  in  this  direction.  With  the  Rev. 
Samuel  Wesley,  on  the  contrary,  "beating 
rhymes,"  as  he  called  it,  was  almost  a  mania. 
He  was  a  man  of  extraordinary  literary  indus- 
try, and  poem  after  poem  came  in  rapid  succes- 

32 


Susanna  Wesley 

sion  from  liis  pen.  These  found  their  way 
into  print  by  the  aid  of  Dunton,  a  London  pub- 
lisher, who  had  married  a  daughter  of  Dr.  An- 
nesley.  He  rendered  ]\Ir.  We.sley,  however, 
more  valuable  service  by  making-  him  ac- 
quainted with  Susanna  Annesley,  his  future 
wife.  Pope  knew  the  elder  Wesley  well,  and 
commends  him  to  Swift  as  "a  learned  man 
whose  prose  is  better  than  his  poetry."  His 
longer  poems  were  a  "Life  of  Christ"  and  a 
"  Historv  of  the  Old  and  New  Testaments," 
written  in  rather  doggerel  rhymes;  but  his 
most  able  production  was  a  learned  Latin  dis- 
sertation on  the  Book  of  Job.  He  possessed 
the  rare  distinction  of  having  dedicated  volumes 
to  three  successive  queens  of  England. 

One  of  these  dedications  procured  him  the 
presentation  to  the  rectory  of  Ep worth,  with  a 
stipend  of  two  hundred  pounds  a  year.  This 
was  a  piece  of  great  good  fortune,  for,  as  he 
wrote  to  the  Archbishop  of  York,  "  he  had  had 
but  fifty  pounds  a  year  for  six  or  seven  years 
together,  and  one  child,  at  least,  per  annum." 
Yet  he  welcomed  each  addition  to  his  family  as 
a  gift  from  God,  and  bravely  struggled  to  pro- 
vide bread  for  the  constantly  increasing  number 
of  hungry  mouths. 

Even  when  living  with  his  wife  and  child  in 

lodgings    in    London,   on  an  income  of   thirt}' 

33 


Makers  of  Methodism 

pounds  a  year,  his  sturdy  and  hereditary  inde- 
pendence was  manifest.  He  was  offered  pre- 
ferment by  the  court  party  if  he  would  read 
from  the  pulpit  King  James  the  Second's  famous 
Declaration  of  Indulq-ence.  But  believing-  it  to 
be  a  design  to  favor  the  Roman  Catholics,  as 
indeed  it  was,  he  not  only  refused  to  read  it, 
but  denounced  it  in  a  sermon  on  the  words  of 
the  three  Hebrew  children  concerning  the 
golden  image  of  Nebuchadnezzar.  The  High 
Church  notions  of  Samuel  Wesley,  like  those  of 
his  wife,  were  the  result,  therefore,  of  convic- 
tion, and  not  of  self-interest. 

In  the  little  rectory  of  Epworth  was  repro- 
duced one  of  the  noblest  phases  of  what  Cole- 
ridge has  called  the  one  sweet  idyl  of  English 
society — life  in  a  country  parsonage.  Here  in 
a  quiet  round  of  domestic  joys  and  religious 
duties  was  trained,  for  usefulness  and  for  God, 
a  numerous  family,  numbering  in  all  nineteen 
children.  Mr.  Wesley  was  zealous  in  pulpit 
and  pastoral  labors  and  bold  in  rebuking  sin, 
whether  in  lofty  or  lowly.  Evil  livers,  to 
whom  the  truth  was  obnoxious,  soon  resented 
his  plainness.  They  wounded  his  cattle,  twice 
set  fire  to  his  house,  and  fired  guns  and  shouted 
beneath  his  windows.  For  a  small  debt  he  was 
arrested,  while  leaving  his  church,  and  thrown 
into  prison,  where  he  remained  three  months. 

34 


Susanna  Wesley 

"  Now  I  am  at  rest,"  he  wrote  from  his  cell 
to  the  Archbishop  of  York,  "fori  have  come 
to  the  haven  where  I  have  long  expected  to  be." 
But  he  immediately  began  to  minister  to  the 
spiritual  wants  of  his  fellow-prisoners,  to  whom 


EPWORTH    RECTORY. 

he  read  prayers  daily  and  preached  on  vSunday. 
He  was  greatly  sustained  by  the  sympathy  and 
fortitude  of  his  noble  wife.  ''It  is  not  every- 
one," he  wrote  again  to  the  archbishop,  "  who 
could  bear  these  things ;  but,  I  bless  God,  my 
wife  is  less  concerned  with  suffering  them  than 

35 


Makers  of  Methodism 

I  am  in  writing,  or  tlian,  I  believe,  your  grace 
will  be  in  reading  them."  "  When  I  came 
here,"  he  writes  again,  "my  stock  was  but 
little  above  ten  shillings,  and  my  wife  at  home 
had  scarce  so  much.  vShe  soon  sent  me  her 
rings,  because  she  had  nothing  else  to  relieve 
me  with,  but  I  returned  them." 

The  Epworth  rectory  was  a  humble,  thatch- 
roofed  building  of  wood  and  plaster,  and  vener- 
able with  moss  and  lichen,  the  growth  of  a 
hundred  years.  It  had  a  parlor,  hall,  buttery, 
three  large  upper  chambers,  with  some  smaller 
apartments,  and  a  study,  where,  we  are  told, 
the  rector  spent  most  of  his  time  "beating 
rhymes  "  and  preparing  his  sermons.  The  man- 
agement of  the  domestic  affairs,  together  with 
the  often  vexatious  temporalities  of  the  tithes 
and  glebe,  he  left  to  his  more  practical  and  capa- 
ble wife.  That  rectory  family  was  a  model  Chris- 
tian household.  Godly  gravity  was  tempered 
by  innocent  gayety,  and  the  whole  suffused  with 
the  tenderest  domestic  affection.  "  They  had 
the  common  reputation,"  says  Dr.  Clarke,  "of 
being  the  most  loving  family  in  Lincolnshire." 

The  center  and  presiding  genius  of  this  fair 

domain  was  Susanna  Wesley.     Like  the  Roman 

matron,   Cornelia,  she   cherished  her  children, 

of  whom  she  had  thirteen  around  her  at  once, 

as  her  chief  jewels.     They  all  bore  pet  "  nick- 

36 


Susanna  Wesley 

names,"  which  were  fondly  used,  like  an  uttered 
caress,  in  the  family  ci'-cle  and  in  the  copious 
correspondence  that  ^.as  kept  up  after  they 
left  home.  <rThe  noblest  tribute  to  this  loving 
mother  is  the  passior'.ate  affection  she  inspired 
in  her  children.') 

Her  son  John  writes  to  her  from  Oxford,  at  a 
time  when  her  health  was  precarious,  in  strains 
of  loverlike  tenderness,  and  hopes  that  he  may 
die  before  her,  that  he  may  not  endure  the 
anguish  of  her  loss. 

"You  did  well,"  she  wrote  him,  in  uncon- 
scious prophecy,  "  to  correct  that  fond  desire  of 
dying  before  me,  since  you  do  not  know  what 
work  God  may  have  for  you  to  do  before  you 
leave  the  world." 

By  her  daughters  she  was  beloved  almost 
with  filial  idolatry.  Death  and  sorrow  many 
times  entered  that  happy  home  and  several  of 
the  nineteen  children  died  young,  but  upon 
the  survivors  was  concentrated  the  affection  of 
as  warm  a  mother's  love  as  ever  throbbed  in 
human  breast.  The  children  seem  to  have 
been  worthy  of  that  mother.  They  were  all 
intelligent;  some  of  them  noted  for  their 
sprightliness  and  wit,  and  others  for  their 
poetic  faculty,  and  several  of  the  girls  were 
remarkable  for  their  beauty  and  vivacity.  Fun 
and   frolic   were   not   unknown    in    this    large 

37 


Makers  of  Methodism 

family  of  healthy,  happy  children,  and  the  great 
hall  of  the  rectory  became  an  arena  of  hilari- 
ous recreations.  "Games  of  skill  and  chance, 
even,"  says  Dr.  Stevens,  "were  among  the 
family  pastimes,  such  as  John  Wesley  after- 
ward prohibited  among  the  Methodists." 

But  maternal  affection  never  degenerated 
into  undue  indulgence.  The  home  discipline 
was  firm,  but  not  rigorous;  strength,  guided  by 
kindness,  ruled  in  that  happy  household.  Mrs. 
Wesley  superintended  the  entire  early  education 
of  her  children,  in  addition  to  her  other  numer- 
ous household  cares.  Her  son  John  describes 
with  admiration  the  calmness  with  which  she 
wrote  letters,  transacted  business,  and  con- 
versed, surrounded  by  her  numerous  family. 
She  has  left  a  record  of  her  mode  of  govern- 
ment and  instruction. 

"  The  children,"  she  sa3^s,  "were  always  put 

into  a  regular  method  of  living  in  such  things 

as  they  were  capable  of  from  their  birth,  such 

as    in    dressing,    undressing,    etc.     They   were 

left  in  their  several  rooms  awake,  for  there  was 

no  such  thing  allowed  in  the  house  as  sitting 

by  a  child   till  it  fell  asleep.     From  the  time 

they  were  one  year  old  they  were  taught  to  cry 

softly,   if    at    all,  whereby  they  escaped   much 

correction,  and  that  most  odious  noise  of  the 

crying  of  children  was  rarely  heard.     The  will 

38 


Susanna  Wesley 

was  early  subdued,  because,"  she  judiciously 
observes,  "this  is  the  only  strong  and  rational 
foundation  of  a  religious  education,  without 
which  both  precept  and  example  will  be  in- 
effectual. But  when  this  is  thoroughly  done," 
she  continues,  "  then  a  child  is  capable  of  being 
governed  by  the  reason  and  piety  of  its  parents 
till  its  own  understanding  comes  to  maturity 
and  the  principles  of  religion  have  taken  root 
in  the  mind." 

So  early  did  this  religious  training  begin  that 
the  children  were  taught  "  to  be  quiet  at  family 
prayer,  and  to  ask  a  blessing  at  table  by  signs, 
before  they  could  kneel  or  speak."  At  five 
years  old  they  were  taught  to  read.  One  day 
was  allowed  for  learnino-  the  letters — a  feat 
which  each  of  them  accomplished  in  that  time, 
except  two,  who  took  a  day  and  a  half,  "  for 
which,"  says  the  mother,  "I  then  thought 
them  very  dull."  As  soon  as  they  could  spell 
they  were  set  reading  the  Scriptures,  and  kept 
at  the  appointed  task  till  it  was  perfectly  mas- 
tered. One  of  the  girls,  we  are  told,  was  able, 
in  her  eighth  year,  to  read  the  Greek  language. 

The  culture  of  the  heart  was  no  less  sedu- 
lously observed  than  the  cultui-e  of  the  mind. 
"The  family  school  opened  and  closed  with 
singing.  At  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  all 
had  a  season   of  retirement,    when   the  oldest 

39 


Makers  of  Methodism 

took  the  youngest  that  could  speak,  and  the 
second  the  next,  to  whom  they  read  the  psalm 
for  the  day  and  a  chapter  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment. She  herself  also  conversed  each  evening 
with  one  of  her  children  on  religious  subjects, 
and  on  some  evenings  with  two,  so  as  to  com- 
prehend the  whole  circle  every  week,"  The 
hallowed  influence  of  those  sacred  hours  is  in- 
calculable. 

A  high-souled  sense  of  honor  was  cultivated 
in  the  hearts  of  the  children.  If  any  of  them 
was  charged  with  a  fault,  he  was  encouraged  to 
ingenuous  confession,  and  on  promise  of  amend- 
ment was  freely  forgiven.  The  result  of  this 
pious  home  training  was  seen  in  the  character  it 
produced.  Ten  of  the  children  reached  adult 
years,  and  everyone  of  them  became  an  earnest 
Christian,  and,  after  a  life  of  singular  devotion, 
died  at  last  in  the  triumphs  of  faith.  "  Such  a 
family,"  says  Dr.  Adam  Clarke,  "  I  have  never 
heard  of  or  known,  nor,  since  the  days  of  Abra- 
ham and  Sarah,  and  Joseph  and  ]\Iary  of  Naza- 
reth, has  there  ever  been  a  family  to  wdiich  the 
human  race  has  been  more  indebted." 

This  noble  woman  was  deepl}'  concerned  for 
the  spiritual  welfare  of  her  neighbors  as  well  as 
of  her  own  household.  While  her  husband  was 
confined  in  prison  she  opened  the  doors  of  her 

house  for  religious  service.     Sometimes  as  many 

40 


Susanna  Wesley 

as  two  hundred  were  present,  while  many  others 
went  away  for  want  of  room.  To  these  she 
read  the  most  awakening  sermons  she  could 
find,  and  prayed  and  conversed  with  them. 
Wesley's  curate  and  some  of  the  parishioners 
wrote  to  him  against  the  assembly  as  a  "  con- 
venticle." She  vindicated  her  course  in  a  letter 
of  sound  judgment  and  good  taste.  "The 
meetings  were  filling  the  parish  church,"  she 
said,  "  with  persons  reclaimed  from  immorality, 
some  of  whom  had  not  for  years  been  seen  at 
service."  As  to  the  suggestion  of  letting  some 
one  else  read,  she  wrote:  "Alas!  you  do  not 
consider  what  these  people  are.  I  do  not  think 
one  man  among  them  could  read  a  sermon 
through  without  spelling  a  good  part  of  it ;  and 
how  would  that  edify  the  rest  ?  "  But  with  a 
true  wife's  recognition  of  the  rightful  authority 
of  her  husband,  she  says,  "  Do  not  advise,  but 
command  me  to  desist." 

The  tranquil  rectory  at  Epworth  was  not, 
however,  without  its  visitations  of  sorrow. 
Time  after  time  death  visited  its  charmed 
circle  till  nine  of  the  loved  household  were 
borne  away.  And  there  were  sadder  things, 
even,  than  death  to  mar  its  happiness.  The 
beauty  and  native  graces  of  several  of  the 
daughters  led  to  marriages  which  proved  unfor- 
tunate.    In  anguish  of  soul  their  sympathizing 

41 


Makers  of  Methodism 

mother  writes  thus  to  her  brother  of  this  sad- 
dest sorrow  which  can  befall  a  woman's  life : 
"  O,  brother!  happy,  thrice  happy  are  you. 
Happy  is  my  sister,  that  buried  your  children 
in  infancy,  secure  from  temptation,  secure  from 
guilt,  secure  from  want  or  shame,  secure  from 
the  loss  of  friends.  Believe  me,  it  is  better  to 
mourn  ten  children  dead  than  one  living,  and  I 
have  buried  many." 

The  pinchings  of  poverty,  also,  were  only  too 
familiar  in  this  family,  and  sometimes  even  the 
experience  of  want.  The  shadow  of  debt  hung 
over  it,  and  beneath  that  shadow  Mr.  Wesley 
sank  into  the  grave.  Although  the  living  of 
Epworth  was  nominally  valued  at  ^200,  it  did 
not  realize  more  than  ^^"130.  How,  even  with 
the  utmost  economy,  such  a  large  family  was 
clothed,  fed,  and  educated  on  this  meager 
stipend  is  one  of  the  most  extraordinary  cir- 
cumstances in  its  history.  Yet  these  privations 
were  borne  not  complainingly,  but  cheerfully. 
In  a  letter  to  the  Archbishop  of  York  this 
noble  woman  was  able  to  say  that  the  experi- 
ence and  observation  of  over  fifty  years  had 
taught  her  that  it  was  much  easier  to  be  con- 
tented without  riches  than  with  them. 

It  has  been  already  stated  that  the  rectory  was 
twice  fired  by  the  disaffected  rabble  of  the  parish. 

It  was  on  the  second  of  these  occasions  that  the 

42 


Susanna  Wesley 

future  founder  of  Methodism  was  snatched, 
as  by  a  special  providence,  ahiiost  from  the 
jaws  of  death.  Mrs.  Wesley,  who  was  in  feeble 
health,  was  unable  to  make  her  escape,  like 
others  of  the  family,  by  climbing-  through  the 
windows  of  the  burning  building.  Thrice  she 
attempted  to  fight  her  way  through  the  flames 
to  the  street,  but  each  time  was  driven  back  by 
their  fury.  At  last,  with  scorched  and  branded 
hands,  she  escaped  from  the  fire. 

It  was  now  found  that  little  John  Wesley  was 
missing.  Several  times  the  frantic  father  strove 
to  climb  the  burning-  stairs  to  his  rescue,  but 
they  crumbled  beneath  his  weight.  The  im- 
periled child,  finding  his  bed  on  fire,  flew  to 
the  window,  where  two  of  the  neighbors,  stand- 
ing one  upon  the  shoulders  of  the  other,  plucked 
him  from  destruction  at  the  very  moment  that 
the  burning  roof  fell  in,  and  the  house  became 
a  mass  of  ruins.  Everything  was  lost — the 
furniture  and  clothing  of  the  household  and  the 
precious  books  and  manuscripts  of  the  studious 
rector.  But  the  Christian  and  the  father  rose 
supreme  above  it  all.  "Come,  friends,"  he 
exclaimed,  as  he  gathered  his  rescued  family 
around  him,  "let  us  kneel  down  and  thank 
God ;  he  has  given  me  all  my  eight  children ; 
I  am  rich  enough." 

The  grateful  mother  consecrated  the  child  so 

43 


Makers  of  Methodism 

providentially  rescued  to  the  service  of  God. 
"  I  do  intend,"  she  subsequently  wrote,  "  to  be 
more  particularly  careful  of  the  soul  of  this 
child,  that  thou  hast  so  mercifully  provided  for, 
than  ever  I  have  been,  that  I  may  do  my 
endeavor  to  instill  into  his  mind  the  principles 
of  true  religion  and  virtue.  Lord,  give  me 
grace  to  do  it  sincerely  and  prudently,  and 
bless  my  attempt  with  good  success." 

While  her  boys  were  absent  at  the  Charter- 
house School  and  at  Oxford  University  this 
loving  mother  kept  up  a  constant  correspond- 
ence with  them.  Her  letters  are  marked  by  a 
special  solicitude  for  their  spiritual  welfare. 
'  *  Resolve  to  make  religion  the  business  of  your 
life,"  she  wrote  to  her  son  John,  "  I  heartily 
wish  you  would  now  enter  upon  a  strict  exami- 
nation of  yourself,  that  you  may  know  whether 
you  have  a  reasonable  hope  of  salvation  by 
Jesus  Christ.  If  you  have,  the  satisfaction  of 
knowing  it  will  abundantly  reward  your  pains ; 
if  you  have  not,  you  will  find  a  more  reasonable 
occasion  for  tears  than  can  be  met  with  in  any 
tragedy."  With  such  a  mother,  and  with  such 
counsels,  small  wonder  that  her  sons  became  a 
blessing  to  their  race. 

After  the  death  of  her  husband  this  saintly 
soul  was  spared  for  many  years  to  aid  by  her 
wise  counsels  the  novel  and  often  difficult  de- 

44 


Susanna  Wesley 

cisions  of  her  sons.  When  the  "  irreg-ularities  " 
of  field  preaching  were  complained  of  she  rec- 
ognized the  hand  of  Providence  in  the  circum- 
stances which  made  it  a  necessity,  and  stood  by 
her  son  on  Kennington  Common  as  he  pro- 
claimed the  Gospel  to  twenty  thousand  persons. 

Adjoining  the  old  foundry,  the  mother-chapel 
of  Methodism,  John  Wesley  had  fitted  up  a 
residence  for  himself  and  his  assistants  in 
London.  Here  with  filial  affection  he  brought 
his  revered  and  beloved  mother,  and  sustained 
her  declining  years  with  the  tenderest  care. 
When  unable  to  attend  the  services  she  could 
hear  the  singing  and  prayer  that  almost  daily  re- 
sounded through  that  historic  building.  Here, 
in  the  seventy-third  year  of  her  age,  she  peace- 
fully passed  away.  "She  had  no  doubt,  no 
fear,"  writes  her  son,  "nor  any  desire  but  to 
depart  and  be  with  Christ." 

John  Wesley  and  five  of  her  daughters  stood 

around  her  dying  bed  and  commended  her  soul 

to  God  in  prayer.     When  unable  to  speak  she 

looked  steadfastly  upward,  as  if,  like  Stephen, 

she   saw  heaven  open  before    her.     With    her 

last   words    she    requested    that    her    children 

should  sing  as  she  departed  a  psalm  of  praise  to 

God.     With  tremulous  voices  they  obeyed  her 

last  request,  and  her  spirit  took  its  flight  from 

the  toils  and  the  travails  of  earth  to  the  peace 
4  45 


Makers  of  Methodism 

and  blessedness  of  paradise.  Her  ashes  sleep 
with  those  of  the  many  illustrious  dead  of  Bun- 
hill  Fields ;  and  at  City  Road  Chapel  a  simple 
marble  monument  commemorates  her  virtues. 

Her  noble  life  needs  no  words  of  eulogy. 
Her  own  works  praise  her.  Her  children  rise 
up  and  call  her  blessed.  Many  daughters  have 
done  virtuously,  but  she  has  excelled  them  all. 
Her  life  of  toil  and  trial,  of  privation  and 
self-denial,  of  high  resolve  and  patient  continu- 
ance in  well-doing,  has  been  crowned  with  a 
rich  and  glorious  reward.  The  hallowed  teach- 
ings of  that  humble  home  originated  a  sacred 
impulse  that  quickened  the  spiritual  life  of 
Christendom  from  that  day  to  this.  The  puls- 
ing tides  of  its  growing  influence  shall  roll 
down  the  ages  and  break  on  every  civilized  and 
savage  shore  till  the  whole  world  is  filled  with 
the  knowledge  of  God. 


The  house  in  which  John  and  Charles  Wesley  were  born  is  still 
used  as  the  rectory  of  the  parish  of  Epworth.  It  is  externally  some- 
what changed,  a  roof  of  tiles  having  taken  the  place  of  that  of  thatch 
of  the  olden  time.  It  is  at  present  occupied  by  Canon  Overton, 
a  liberal  churchman,  who  has  himself  written  a  sympathetic  life  of 
John  Wesley.  The  canon  kindly  gives  courteous  permission  to  the 
pilgrims  to  this  Mecca  of  Methodism  to  visit  the  church  and  rectory. 
A  few  summers  ago  a  number  of  Epworth  Leaguers  from  the  United 
States  were  cordially  welcomed  to  these  historic  scenes.  In  this 
birthplace  of  Methodism  the  Wesleyan  Methodists  have  a  commo- 
dious and  elegant  chapel  and  schools. 

46 


John  and  -Charles  Wesley 


IV 

John  and  Charles  Wesley— Founders  of  Methodism 

The  Epwortli  rectory  may  well  be  called  the 
cradle  of  ]\Iethodism.  The  group  of  boys  and 
girls  who  gathered  around  the  knees  of  Susanna 
Wesley  may  not  unfitly  be  regarded  as  a  type 
of  the  great  family  of  Epworth  Leaguers  who 
arc  being  trained  up  in  the  household  of  Metho- 
dism in  Christian  culture  and  Christian  service. 

Of  the  nineteen  children  of  Samuel  and  Su- 
sanna Wesley  several  were  in  after  life  distin- 
guished for  piety,  intelligence,  and  scholarship. 
Others  were  remarkable  for  Avit  and  vivacity. 
The  eldest  son,  Samuel,  became  a  very  learned 
clergyman  and  author  of  .some  noble  hymns. 
Others  also  had  poetic  talent.  Several  of  the 
children  died  in  childhood,  but  thirteen  of 
them  were  livinof  at  one  time,  and  must  have 
made  the  old  Epworth  rectory  alive  with 
youthful  fun  and  frolic. 

Two  members  of  this  remarkable  family  have 

won  world-wide  fame  as  the  chief  founders  of 

Methodism.     John    AVesley,    the    elder   of    the 

two,   born    in    1703,   is    described  as  having  a 

boyish  turn  for  wit  and  humor.     His  brother 

47 


Makers  of  Methodism 

Charles,  five  yeai^s  younger,  was  exceedingly 
sprightly  and  active,  and  remarkable  for  cour- 
age and  skill  in  juvenile  encounters  Avith  his 
school-fellows.     We  have  already  described  the 


JOHN   WESLEY   AT   THE  AGE   OF   23. 

home  training  of  this  first  Methodist  household 
and  the  providential  rescue  of  little  John  Wesley 
from  destruction  by  fire. 

When  only  thirteen  years  old  "  Jacky,"  as  he 
is  named  in  his  mother's  letters,  left  the  shelter- 
ing rooftree  of  the   Epworth    rectory    for   the 

48 


John  and  Charles  Wesley 

cloisters  of  the  Charterhouse  School,  London. 
This  was  an  old  monastery,  founded  five  hun- 
dred years  ago.  After  its  dissolution  by  Henry 
VIII  it  became  the  family  seat  of  the  Howards 
and  the  court  of  Queen  Elizabeth  and  of  King 
James.  It  was  converted  into  a  school  for  forty 
boys  and  an  asylum  for  eighty  poor  gentlemen. 
It  has  an  annual  revenue  of  $150,000.  Among 
its  famous  scholars  were  Addison,  Steele,  Black- 
stone,  Wesley,  Grote,  Havelock,  and  Thackeray. 
In  Wesley's  day  the  food  for  the  brain  was  better 
than  that  for  the  body,  and  Jacky  was  nearly 
starved.  He  obeyed  the  wise  counsel  of  his 
father,  that  he  should  run  around  the  large  gar- 
den three  times  a  day.  He  thus  got  up  an  ex- 
cellent appetite,  even  if  he  did  not  get  very 
much  to  gratify  it. 

In  three  years  he  entered  Christ  Church  Col- 
lege, Oxford,  where  he  continued  his  classical 
studies.  He  became  Greek  lecturer  at  the  univer- 
sity when  a  little  more  than  twenty-three  years 
old.  In  Hebrew,  too,  he  was  one  of  the  best  schol- 
ars of  the  age.  About  this  time  he  was  joined  by 
his  5^ounger  brother  Charles.  When  John  was 
twenty-eight  and  Charles  was  twenty-three  the 
famous ' '  Holy  Club "  was  formed.  It  consisted  of 
a  little  group  of  students  who  met  together  for  the 
study  of  the  Greek  Testament,  for  self-examina- 
tion, and  prayer.     Their  methodical  lives  led  to 

49 


Makers  of  Methodism 

their  receiving  the  epithet  of  "Methodists,"  a 
name  of  contempt  which  was  destined  to  become 
one  of  highest  honor. 

While  Epworth  rectory  may  be  called  the 
cradle  of  Methodism,  it  was  at  Oxford  that  it 
received  its  strong  impress  of  intellectual  cul- 
ture. It  must  never  be  forgotten  that  it  was  in 
the  first  university  of  Europe  that  this  child  of 
Providence  was  fostered  and  trained.  They 
were  no  illiterates,  those  Fellows  of  Oxford 
who  met  for  the  study  of  the  oracles  of  God  in 
their  original  tongues.  With  the  instincts  of 
true  learning,  having  kindled  their  torches  at 
the  altar  fire  of  eternal  truth,  they  went  forth 
to  diffuse  the  light,  to  illumine  the  darkness, 
and  as  heralds  to  proclaim  the  dawn  of  a  new 
day.  The  university  crest  has  in  this  connec- 
tion a  prophetic  significance.  It  is  an  open 
Bible  with  the  motto,  "  dominvs  ili.vminatio 
mea" — The  Lord  is  my  Light.  Though  the 
mission  of  Methodism  has  been  largely  like  that 
of  the  Christ  of  Nazareth,  to  preach  the  Gospel 
to  the  poor  and  lowly,  it  has  been  the  better  able 
to  do  this  because  it  has  sought  to 

"  Unite  the  pair  so  long  disjoined — 
Knowledge  and  vital  piety." 

Amid  the  stately  surroundings  of  Oxford — 
that  city  of  colleges  which  has  trained  so  many 

50 


CHRIST   CHURCH    COLLEGE    AND    WOLSEY'S    GATE,    OXFORD. 


Makers  of  Methodism 

of  the  English  scholars  and  statesmen — the 
Wesleys,  Whitefield,  Coke,  and  other  early 
Methodist  leaders  received  that  broad  culture, 
that  sound  classical  learning,  that  strict  logical 
training,  which  so  efficiently  equipped  them  for 
the  great  life  work  they  were  to  do.  This  lends 
special  interest  to  a  visit  to  this  Mecca  of  Metho- 
dist pilgrimage. 

This  venerable  seat  of  learning,  dating  from 
the  time  of  Alfred,  the  ancient  Oxenforde — its 
cognizance  is  still  a  shield  with  an  ox  crossing  a 
stream — has  a  singularly  attractive  appearance 
as  seen  from  a  distance,  its  many  towers  and 
spires  and  the  huge  dome  of  the  Radcliffe 
Library  rising  above  the  billowy  sea  of  verdure 
of  its  sylvan  surroundings.  A  nearer  approach 
only  heightens  the  effect  of  this  architectural 
magnificence.  Probably  no  city  of  its  size  in  the 
world  presents  so  many  examples  of  stately  and 
venerable  architecture  as  this  city  of  colleges. 
Look  in  what  direction  you  will,  a  beautiful 
tower,  spire,  or  Gothic  facade  will  meet  the  eye. 

As  we  walk  the  smooth-turfed  quadrangles 

and  traverse  the  ivy-clad  cloisters  and  the  long 

rows  of  collegiate  buildings,  and  visit  the  alcoved 

library,  the  great  halls,  and  the  college  chapels, 

we  gain  some  suggestions  of  the  atmosphere  of 

learning  by  which  the  founders  of  Methodism 

were  surrounded. 

52 


ENTRANCE   TO    HALL   OF   CHRIST   CHURCH  COLLEGE,    OXFORD. 


Makers  of  Methodism 

Christ  Church  College,  of  which  the  Wesleys 
and  Whitefield  were  students,  is  the  largest  and 
most  magnificent  college  at  Oxford.  It  owes  its 
splendor  to  the  munificence  of  Cardinal  Wolsey, 
by  whom  it  was  founded  when  he  was  in  the 
zenith  of  his  prosperity.  One  enters  Christ 
Church  through  Wolsey's  "  Faire  Gate,"  well 
worthy  of  the  name. 

St.  Mary's  Church,  in  whose  pulpit  John 
Wesley  often  preached,  is  invested  with  some 
of  the  most  memorable  associations  of  the 
Reformation.  From  its  pulpit  Wyclif  de- 
nounced the  Romish  superstitions  of  his  day, 
and  maintained  the  right  of  the  laity  to  read 
the  word  of  God,  the  true  palladium  of  their 
civil  and  religious  liberty.  Two  centuries  later, 
when  Romish  influence  was  in  the  ascendant  at 
the  university,  the  martyr-bishops,  Cranmer, 
Ridley,  and  Latimer,  were  cited  here  for  trial 
before  Cardinal  Pole,  1555  ;  and  hither  the  fol- 
lowing year  the  venerable  Archbishop  Cranmer 
was  brought  from  prison  for  the  purpose  of  pub- 
licly recanting  his  Protestant  opinions. 

"  He  that  late  was  primate  of  all  England," 
says  Foxe,  "  attired  in  a  bare  and  ragged  gown, 
with  an  old  square  cap,  stood  on  a  low  stage 
near  the  pulpit.  After  a  pathetic  prayer, 
stretching  forth  his  right  hand,  instead  of  the 
expected    recantation    he  said,    '  Forasmuch  as 

54 


ST.  M^VRy's  CHURrH,   OXFORD. 


Makers  of  Methodism 

my  hand  offended  in  writing  contrary  to  my 
heart,  my  hand,  therefore,  shall  be  first  pun- 
ished, for  it  shall  be  first  burnt.'  Having  thus 
'flung  down  the  burden  of  his  shame,'  he  was 
dragged  from  the  stage,  with  many  insults,  to 
the  place  where  he  glorified  God  in  the  flames, 
after  having  been  compelled  to  witness  the  mar- 
tyrdom of  Latimer  and  Ridley," 

The  Wesleys  were  familiar  with  this  sacred 
spot.  With  Whitefield  and  others  of  the 
"Holy  Club"  they  also  regularly  visited  the 
felons  in  the  public  prison.  Within  these 
gloomy  dungeons  the  martyr-bishops,  Cranmer 
Latimer,  and  Ridley,  were  confined,  and  from 
it  they  walked  to  their  funeral  pyre.  Here,  we 
may  be  sure,  the  Wesleys  often  mused,  catch- 
ing inspiration  from  the  example  of  those  heroic 
men,  and  willing,  if  need  were,  to  die  like  them 
for  the  Lord  they  loved  so  well. 

The  ivy-mantled  gateway  of  St,  Mary's 
Church  is  an  object  of  strikingly  picturesque 
beauty.  The  image  of  the  Virgin  above  it  gave 
great  offense  to  the  Puritans,  and  was  one  of  the 
causes  of  the  impeachment  of  Archbishop  Laud. 

But  we  must  return  to  the  personal  history  of 

John  Wesley.     In  due  course  he  was  ordained  a 

minister  of  the  Established  Church,  and  for  a 

time  aided  his  father,  then  sinking  under  the 

weight  of  years,  at  Epworth, 

56 


John  and  Charles  Wesley 

On  his  father's  death  he  was  invited  to  suc- 
ceed him  as  rector.  He  was  also  requested  to 
go  with  his  brother  as  a  missionary  to  Georgia. 
The  decision  rested  upon  the  consent  of  his 
venerable  mother.  "  I  can  be,"  he  said,  "  the 
staff  of  her  age,  her  chief  support  and  com- 
fort." But  the  heroic  soul,  notwithstanding 
her  lonely  widowhood,  replied,  "Had  I  twenty 
sons,  I  should  rejoice  that  they  were  all  so 
employed,  though  I  should  never  see  them 
again." 

On  board  the  ship  by  which  the  brothers 
sailed  to  the  New  World  were  a  number  of  Ger- 
man Moravians  with  their  bishop.  The  vessel 
became  at  once  "Bethel  church  and  a  semi- 
nary." Daily  prayer  and  preaching,  the  study 
of  the  Scriptures  and  Christian  divinity,  and  in- 
structing the  children  filled  up  the  hours. 
During  a  terrific  storm,  which  greatly  alarmed 
the  English  passengers,  the  pious  Moravians, 
even  the  women  and  children,  sang  calmly  on, 
unafraid  to  die — a  lesson  which  the  Oxford  Fel- 
lows had  not  yet  learned. 

Arrived  in  Georgia,  the  Wesleys  devoted 
themselves  with  zeal  to  their  missionary  toil. 
They  lived  the  lives  of  ascetics.  "They  slept 
on  the  ground  rather  than  on  beds ;  they  refused 
all  food  but  bread  and  water,  and  John  went 
barefooted,  that  he  might  encourage  the  boys  of 

57 


Makers  of  Methodism 

his  school — a  condescension  better  in  its  motive 
than  in  its  example."     The  matter-of-fact  colo- 


(lATEWAY    OF    ST.   MARY  S    CHURCH,   OXFORD. 

nists  did  not  appreciate  such  ascetic  piety,  and 

the  Wesleys  soon  found  it  expedient  to  return 

to  England. 

S8 


John  and  Charles  Wesley 

"  I  went  to  America,"  wrote  John  Wesley  in 
his  Journal,    "to  convert  the  Indians,  but,  O, 
who  shall  convert  me?     I  have  a  fair  summer 
religion  ;    I  can  talk  well,  nay,  and  believe  my- 
self,  while  no  danger  is  near;    but  let  death 
look  me  in  the  face,  and  my  spirit  is  troubled, 
nor  can   I   say  to    die   is  gain."     Yet   he    con- 
tinued  to   preach    and    pray,   though   suffering 
great    disquietude    of    soul.     He    renewed   his 
acquaintance  with  the  Moravians  by  attending 
their  services  in  London.     One  evening  a  lay- 
man was  reading  Luther's  preface  to  the  Epistle 
to  the    Romans.     Wesley  writes:    "I   felt  my 
heart  strangely  warmed.      I  felt  I  did  trust  in 
Christ,  and  Christ  alone,  for  salvation,  and  an 
assurance    was    given    me    that    he    had    taken 
away  my  sins,  even  mine,  and  saved  me  from 
the  law  of  sin  and  death."     Thus  not  until  his 
thirty-fifth  year  did  he  obtain  that  full  assurance 
of  faith  which  he  so  long  had  sought,  and  which 
he  was  to  preach,  a  flaming  herald  of  the  cross, 
throughout  the  land.      "  It  is  scarcely  an  exag- 
geration to  say,"  writes  Lecky  in  his  History  of 
England  in  the  Eighteenth  Century, ' '  that  the  scene 
which  took    place  in  that    humble    meeting  in 
Aldergate  Street  forms  an  epoch  in  English  his- 
tory. The  conviction  which  then  flashed  upon  one 
of  the  most  powerful  and  active  intellects  in  Eng- 
land is  the  true  source  of  English  Methodism." 

59 


Makers  of  Methodism 

Deeply  impressed  with  the  piety  of  the  Mora- 
vians, Wesley  determined  to  visit  their  chief 
settlement  at  Herrnhut,  in  Bohemia.  His  soul 
was  strengthened  by  their  devout  companion- 
ship. "  I  would  gladly,"  he  said,  "  have  spent 
my  life  here,  but  my  Master  calling  me  to  labor 
in  other  parts  of  his  vineyard,  I  was  constrained 
to  take  my  leave  of  this  happy  place." 

A  new  note  was  now  heard  in  his  sermons. 
To  the  condemned  felons  of  Newgate,  as  well  as 
to  the  decorous  congregations  in  the  churches, 
he  preached  repentance,  the  remission  of  sins, 
and  free  salvation.  Joined  by  his  brother  Charles 
and  George  Whitefield,  he  went  everywhere 
preaching  with  strange  power  this  new  evangel 
of  the  grace  of  God. 

In  1739  John  Wesley  dedicated  the  first  place 
of  worship  for  the  people  called  Methodists,  and 
organized  the  first  Methodist  society.  His  own 
account  of  this  important  event  is  as  follows: 
"  In  the  latter  end  of  the  year  1739  eight  or  ten 
persons  came  to  me  in  London,  and  desired  that 
I  would  spend  some  time  with  them  in  prayer 
and  advise  them  how  to  flee  from  the  wrath  to 
come;  this  was  the  rise  of  the  United  Society." 
This  is  recorded  as  the  epoch  of  Methodism 
from  which  its  corporate  organization  dates. 

The  origin  of  any  important  institution,  the 

birthplace  of  any  great  movement  or  great  man, 

60 


JOHN  AND  Charles  Wesley 

will  ever  engage  the  profoundest  attention  of 
the  human  mind.  Hence  men  visit  with  eager 
interest  the  cradle-lands  of  the  race,  they  con- 
template with  patriotic  pride  the  field  of  Runny- 
mede,  they  make  long  pilgrimages  to  the  hum- 
ble cottage  in  which  the  Bard  of  Avon  or  the 
Bard  of  Ayr  was  born.  With  not  less  reverent 
feelings  should  we  visit  the  cradle  of  the  great- 
est religious  movement  of  modern  times. 

The  first  home  of  Methodism  was,  indeed, 
very  humble,  suggesting  analogies  with  the 
lowly  beginnings  of  Christianty  itself — the  man- 
ger of  Bethlehem  and  the  cottage  home  of  Naz- 
areth. Early  in  1739  John  Wesley  was  urged  to 
secure  the  old  Foundry,  Moorfields,  London,  as 
a  place  of  worship.  This  was  a  large,  ram- 
bling pile  of  buildings,  near  the  site  of  the  pre- 
sent City  Road  Chapel.  Wesley's  only  regular 
income  was  ^^28  a  year,  from  his  Oxford  fellow- 
ship. The  sum  required  for  the  purchase  of 
the  Foundry  was  ^115;  but,  full  of  faith,  he  as- 
sumed the  debt,  and,  some  friends  coming  to  his 
aid,  nearly  ^^"700  was  expended  in  fitting  it  up 
for  worship.  Instead  of  the  clang  of  anvils  and 
roar  of  furnaces,  employed  in  the  manufacture 
of  the  deadly  enginery  of  war,  its  walls  were  to 
echo  to  the  holy  hymns  and  the  glad  evangel  of 
the  Gospel  of  peace. 

Part  of  the  building  was  fitted  up  with  desks 
5  61 


Makers  of  Methodism 

for  a  school.     Here  for  seven  years  Silas  Told 
taught  a  number  of  charity  children,  from  six 
in  the  morning  till  five  in  the  evening,  for  the 
salary  of  ten  shillings  a  week.      Part  was  after- 
ward fitted  up  as  a  book  room  for  the  sale  of 
Mr.  Wesley's  publications.     A  dispensary  and 
almshouse  for  the  poor  was  aLso  part  of  the  es- 
tablishment, where,  in  1748,  were  nine  widows, 
one  blind  woman,  and  two  poor  children.     "  I 
might  add,"  says  Wesley,  "  four  or  five  preach- 
ers, for  I  myself,  as  well  as  the  other  preachers 
who    are  in  town,   diet  with   the   poor,  on  the 
same  food  and  at  the  same  table ;   and  we  re- 
joice therein,  as  a  comfortable  earnest  of  our 
eating  bread  together  in  our  Father's  kingdom." 
A  savings  bank  and  loan  fund  were  also  estab- 
lished.     High  up  near  the  roof  were  apartments 
for    Mr.    Wesley,    in    which    his   mother  died. 
There  was  also  accommodation  for  the  assistant 
preachers  and  for  domestics. 
■     To  this  rude  and   ruinous  structure,  in  the 
dark    London    mornings  and  evenings,    multi- 
tudes of  God-fearing  Methodists  wended  their 
way  by  the  dim  light  of  their  candle  or  oil  lan- 
terns, over  the  ill-paved  streets,  to  the  services ; 
and  here  multitudes  of  souls  were  converted  to 
God.     The  Foundry  society  numbered,  in  1743, 
no    less    than    t\vent3'-two    hundred    members, 

meeting  in  sixty-six  classes. 

62 


John  and  Charlks  Wkslev 

The  "  irregularities  "  of  the  new  apostle  soon 
caused  the  closure  of  many  churches  against 
him.  Charles  Wesley  was  ejected  from  his 
curacy  and  threatened  with  excommunication 
by  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury.  When  driv- 
en from  the  churches,  the  zealous  evangelists 
went  everywhere  preaching  the  word — in  the 
market  places,  on  the  hillsides,  on  the  broad 
commons,  wherever  men  would  listen,  and  often 
where  they  would  not. 

John  Wesley  was  soon  called  to  sanc- 
tion a  new  departure — that  of  lay  preaching. 
Thomas  Maxfield,  one  of  his  gifted  helpers, 
during  Wesley's  absence  from  the  Foundry  in 
London,  occupied  the  pulpit — to  the  great  bene- 
fit of  the  large  congregations.  Wesley  hear- 
ing of  this  new  irregularity,  and  strong  in  his 
sentiments  of  churchly  order,  hastened  to  Lon- 
don to  put  a  stop  to  the  innovation.  His  wise 
mother,  however,  read  the  signs  of  the  times 
with  a  profounder  sagacity  than  her  learned 
son.  "  Take  care  what  you  do  to  that  young 
man,"  she  said;  "  he  is  as  surely  called  of  Ood 
to  preach  as  3'ou  are,"  and  she  counseled  him 
to  hear  and  judge  for  himself.  "  It  is  the  Lord. 
Let  him  do  what  seemeth  to  him  good,"  the 
stanch  churchman  remarked,  and  another  of 
his  old  prejudices  was  swept  away.  He  at  once 
recognized    Maxfield   as  a  son   in    the  Gospel. 

63 


Makers  of  Methodism 

Lady  Huntingdon  wrote  of  the  eloquent  preach- 
er, ' '  God  has  rised  from  the  stones  one  to  sit 
among  the  princes  of  his  people."  Thus  was  be- 
gun that  great  army  of  lay  helpers  who  have  done 
so  much  in  the  old  world  and  the  new  to  carry 
on  the  triumphs  of  Methodism. 

A  no  less  important  institution  was  soon 
originated  in  Bristol ;  namely,  the  Methodist 
class  meeting.  The  organizing  genius  of  Wesley 
— no  less,  says  Macaulay,  than  that  of  the  great 
Cardinal  Richelieu — began  to  form  his  adher- 
ents into  little  groups  for  mutual  edification 
and  prayer,  and  for  receiving  systematic  and 
regular  contributions  for  the  growing  expenses 
of  the  Methodist  societies.  "  This,"  writes  Mr. 
Wesley,  "was  the  origin  of  our  classes,  for 
which  I  can  never  sufficiently  praise  God.  The 
unspeakable  usefulness  of  the  institution  has 
ever  since  been  more  and  more  manifest." 

Excluded  from  the  Epworth  Church,  where 
his  own  father  had  so  long  been  rector,  John 
Wesley  took  his  stand  upon  his  father's  tomb- 
stone, and  day  after  day  preached  with  such 
power  and  pathos  that  many  of  his  hearers 
"  lifted  up  their  voices  and  wept,"  and  several 
dropped  down  as  if  dead. 

Shut  out  almost  entirely  from  the  pulpits  of 
the  Church  established  by  law,  and  Methodist 
classes  and  societies  springing  up  in  all  direc- 

64 


Joiix  AND  Charles  Wksley 

tions,  John  Wesley  framed  the  General  Rules 
of  the  United  vSocicties,  which  have  become  a 
part  of  the  constitution  of  the  Methodist  Churches 
throughout  the  world.  This  is  one  of  the  most 
simple  and  catholic  formulae  of  faith  recorded  in 
the  annals  of  Christendom.  As  John  Wesley- 
remarks  in  his  Journal,  "  (),  that  we  may  never 
make  anything  more  or  less  the  term  of  union 
with  us  but  the  having  the  mind  that  was  in 
Christ,  and  the  walking  as  he  walked," 

Traveling  preachers  and  lay  helpers  rapidly 
multiplied,  and  chapels  were,  in  course  of  time, 
erected  in  the  chief  centers  of  population.  But 
while  many  heard  the  word  gladly  others  were 
moved  to  intensest  hostility.  The  persecutions 
of  the  early  Methodists  were  akin  to  those  of  the 
primitive  Christians.  "At  vSheffield,"  John 
Wesley  writes,  "  hell  from  beneath  was  moved 
to  oppose  us."  Stones  and  other  missiles  were 
thrown  into  the  church.  To  save  the  building 
and  the  people  he  gave  notice  that  he  would 
preach  out  of  doors,  and  look  the  enemy  in  the 
face.  A  military  officer  rushed  at  the  elder 
Wesley  and  presented  his  sword  at  the  preacher's 
breast.  Wesley,  undaunted,  threw  open  his 
vest  and  calmly  .said,  "I  fear  God  and  honor 
the  king."  "  The  rioters  resolved  to  pull  down 
the  preaching  house,  and  set  to  their  work,"  he 
writes,  "  while  we  were  preaching  and  praising 

65 


Makers  of  Methodism 

God.  It  was  a  glorious  time  with  us.  Every 
word  and  exhortation  sunk  deep,  every  prayer 
was  sealed.  The  rabble  raged  all  night,  and  by 
morning  had  pulled  down  one  end  of  the  house, 
and  soon  not  a  stone  remained  upon  another." 

Next  morning  he  was  preaching  as  usual  at 
five  o'clock.  The  rioters  smashed  in  the  win- 
dows of  his  dwelling  and  threatened  to  tear  it 
down,  but  the  preacher  fell  asleep  in  five  min- 
utes in  the  dismantled  room.  "I  feared  no 
cold,"  he  writes,  "but  dropped  to  sleep  with 
that  word,  '  Scatter  Thou  the  people  that  delight 
m  w^ar. 

Charles    Wesley,    though    constitutionally    a 

timid  man,  was  bold  as  a  lion  in  the  discharge 

of  duty,  and  shared  with  unflinching  courage 

the  persecutions  of    the    Methodist  preachers. 

Having  met  with  an  accident  in  Bristol,  he  was 

unable  for  a  time  to  walk.     He  was,  however, 

carried    about   from  place   to  place,   preaching 

daily  on  his  knees.      "  The  word  of  God,"  he 

wrote,    "is  not  bound,  if  I  am,  but  runs  very 

swiftly."     At  St,  Ives,  in  Cornwall,  the  chapel 

was  utterly  demolished,  and  the  worshipers  were 

beaten    and    trampled    on  without  mercy.     At 

length  "the   ruffians   fell  to  quarreling  among 

themselves,  broke  the  head  of  the  town  clerk, 

and  drove  one  another  out  of  the  room."    Often 

the    clergy    and  'wardens    of    the    Established 

66 


John  and  Charles  Wesley 

Church  headed  the  rabble.  At  Poole  "  the 
church  record  bears  to  this  day  an  entry  of  ex- 
penses at  the  village  inn  for  drinks  to  the  mob 
and  its  leader  for  driving  out  the  Methodists." 
Yet  nowhere  were  more  glorious  triumphs  won 
for  Methodism  than  in  this  county  of  Cornwall. 
Its  bitterest  persecutors  became  its  most  stalwart 
defenders. 

At  Wednesbury  John  Wesley  was  attacked  at 
night  in  a  pelting  storm  by  an  overwhelming 
mob  of  colliers  and  others.  "  A  strong  man 
aimed  several  blows  with  an  oak  bludgeon  at 
the  back  of  his  head.  One  of  them  w^ould  proba- 
bly have  been  fatal,  but  they  were  all  turned 
aside,  Wesley  says,  he  knows  not  how.  He  was 
struck  by  a  powerful  blow  on  the  chest,  and  by 
another  on  the  mouth,  making  the  blood  gush 
out;  but  he  felt  no  pain,  he  affirms,  from  either 
more  than  if  they  had  touched  him  with  a  straw. 
The  noise  on  every  side,  he  adds,  was  like  the 
roaring  of  the  sea.  ]\Iany  cried :  '  Knock  his 
brains  out !  Dowm  with  him  !  Kill  him  at  once  ! 
Crucify  him!'  'No;  let  us  hear  him  first,' 
shouted  others.  He  at  last  broke  out  aloud  into 
prayer.  The  ruffian  w^ho  had  headed  the  mob, 
a  bear  garden  prizefighter,  was  struck  with  awe, 
and  turning  to  him,  said :  '  vSir,  I  will  spend  my 
life  for  you;   follow  me,  and  not  one  soul  here 

shall  touch  a  hair  of  your  head.'  " 

67 


Makers  of  Methodism 

The  houses  of  the  Methodists  were  attacked, 
the  windows  broken,  the  furniture  demolished. 
His  brother    Charles    writes  of   John  Wesley : 


JOHN   WESLEY    AT   40, 

"  He  looked  like  a  soldier  of  Christ.    His  clothes 

were  torn  to  tatters."    Yet  the  timid,  fastidious, 

scholarly  poet  of    Methodism  also  went  like  a 

soldier  into  the    imminent  deadly  breach,  and 

preached  from  the  text,  "Watch  ye,  stand  fast 

68 


JtJiiN  AND  Charles  Weslev 

in  the  faith,  quit  you  like  men,  be  strong;"  and 
again,  at  daylight,  from  the  text,  "  Fear  none 
of  these  things  which  thou  shalt  suffer." 

On  the  outbreak  of  the  Stuart  rebellion  of 
1745  the  most  absurd  calumnies  were  reported 
concerning  John  Wesley.  "He  was  an  agent 
of  the  pretender;  he  had  been  arrested  for  high 
treason  ;  he  was  a  Jesuit  in  disguise  ;  he  was  a 
Spanish  spy ;  he  was  an  Anabaptist,  a  Quaker ; 
had  been  prosecuted  for  unlawfully  selling  gin  ; 
had  hanged  him.self ;  and,  at  any  rate,  was  not 
the  genuine  John  Wesley,  for  it  was  well  known 
that  the  latter  was  dead  and  buried." 

Charles  Wesley  was  actually  indicted  before 
the  magistrate  because  he  had  besought  God  to 
call  home  his  banished  ones.  This,  it  was 
insisted,  meant  the  House  of  Stuart. 

Bishop  Lavington  threatened  to  strip  the 
gown  off  one  of  Wesley's  preachers  for  his 
Methodistic  practices.  Stripping  it  off  himself  he 
cast  it  at  the  bishop's  feet,  saying,  "  I  can  preach 
the  Gospel  without  a  gown."  Lavington  was 
charmed  by  his  manly  independence  and  agreed 
to  overlook  his  Methodist  fervor. 

In  Wednesbury  the    mob  ruled  for  a  week. 

The  houses  of  the  Methodists  were  pillaged  and 

plundered  as  in  a  sack  of  a  foreign  town.     Yet 

would  the  persecuted  Methodists  not  surrender 

their  religious  convictions. 

69 


Makers  of  Methodism 

The  whole  region  was  in  a  state  little  short  of 
civil  war.  The  London  newspapers  reported 
that  these  outrages  were  perpetrated  by  the 
Methodists  themselves.  The  magistrates  took 
part  with  the  mob  against  the  preachers.  One 
of  them  offered  five  pounds  to  have  the  Metho- 
dists driven  from  town.  Another  shouted, 
"Huzza!  boys;  well  done!  stand  up  for  the 
Church."  At  Thorpe  one  of  the  pensecutors 
died  in  despair,  and  the  rabble  was  appalled 
into  quiet.  At  Newcastle  Wesley  proclaimed 
in  the  public  square,  "Ye  shall  be  hated  of  all 
men  for  my  name's  sake."  Beneath  his  burning 
words  the  ringleaders  were  melted  into  contri- 
tion. Yet  so  mightily  grew  the  word  of  God 
and  prevailed  that  Wesley's  journeys  soon  be- 
came like  a  royal  progress.  The  people  who  had 
mobbed  him  crowded  the  streets  to  bless  him  as 
he  passed. 

At  Roughlee,  a  place  rightly  named,  a  mob 
thought  to  exact  a  pledge  from  Wesley  that  he 
would  no  more  visit  the  neighborhood.  He  de- 
clared that  he  would  cut  off  his  right  hand 
sooner.  He  was  knocked  down  and  trampled 
upon,  but  next  day  he  preached,  he  writes,  as 
he  never  did  in  his  life  before.  At  Devizes  the 
mob  brought  a  fire  engine,  flooded  the  rooms  in 
which  Wesley  lodged,  and  demanded   that  he 

should  be  given  up  to  them  to  be  thrown  into  a 

70 


John  and  Charles  Wesley 

horse  pond.  The  wife  of  the  mayor  sent  her 
maid  to  entreat  him  to  escape  disguised  as  a 
woman.  He  declined  this  doubtful  method. 
More  than  a  thousand  men  joined  in  the  assault. 
"Such  threatenings,  curses,  blasphemies," 
writes  Wesley,  "  I  have  never  heard." 

The  persecuted  Methodists  knelt  down  in 
prayer  to  await  the  assault.  A  lot  of  ruffians 
were  over  their  heads  removing  the  tiles  from 
the  roof.  A  constable  appeared,  and  demanded 
a  pledge  that  the  preachers  should  return  no 
more.  This  was  refused,  when  they  were  con- 
ducted out  of  the  town  and  went  on  their  way 
rejoicing.  Amid  these  tumultuous  scenes  John 
Wesley  declares  that  "  ten  thousand  cares  were 
of  no  more  inconvenience  to  him  than  so  many 
hairs  on  his  head."  His  countenance,  as  Avell 
as  conversation,  expressed  an  habitual  gayety  of 
heart. 

During  all  these  years  of  toil  and  persecution 
John  Wesley  maintained  his  connection  with 
Oxford  University  as  one  of  the  Fellows  of  Lin- 
coln College.  Indeed,  the  thirty  pounds  a  year 
which  he  derived  from  his  fellowship  was  his 
only  fixed  income.  One  of  the  duties  arising 
from  this  relationship  was  that  of  preaching  in 
his  turn  before  the  university,  even  after  his 
name    was    cast    out    as    evil    and    everywhere 

spoken    against.      It   was  in  the  pulpit   of   the 

71 


Makers  of  Methodism 

venerable  Christ  Church,  from  which  Wyclif, 
the  Morning  Star  of  the  Reformation,  and  the 
martyr  bishops,  Cranmer,  Ridley,  and  Latimer, 
had  preached,  that  he  in  turn  proclaimed  the 
word  of  life.  The  last  time  that  he  preached 
before  the  university  was  an  occasion  of  special 
interest.     It  is  thus  described  by  Dr.  Stevens : 

"Oxford  was  crowded  with  strangers,  and 
Wesley's  notoriety  as  a  field  preacher  excited  a 
general  interest  to  hear  him.  Such  was  the 
state  of  morals  at  the  time,  that  clergymen, 
gownsmen,  and  learned  professors  shared  with 
sportsmen  and  the  rabble  the  dissipations  of  the 
turf.  Charles  Wesley  went  in  the  morning  to 
the  prayers  at  Christ  Church,  and  found  men  in 
surplices  talking,  laughing,  and  pointing  as  in  a 
playhouse  during  the  whole  service.  The  inn 
where  he  lodged  was  filled  with  gownsmen  and 
gentry  from  the  races.  He  could  not  restrain 
his  zeal,  but  preached  to  a  crowd  of  them  in  the 
inn  courtyard.  They  were  struck  with  aston- 
ishment, but  did  not  molest  him.  Thence  he 
went  to  St.  Mary's  Church  to  support  his  brother 
in  his  last  appeal  to  their  alum  mater.  Wesley's 
discourse  was  heard  with  profound  attention. 
The  assembly  was  large,  being  much  increased 
by  the  races. 

"  '  Never,"  says  Charles  Wesley,  'have  I  seen 
a  more  attentive  congregation.     They  did  not 


INTERIOR  OF  ST.  MARY's   CHURCH,  OXFORD. 


Makers  of  Methodism 

let  a  word  slip  them.  Some  of  the  heads  of  col- 
leges stood  up  the  whole  time,  and  fixed  their 
eyes  on  him.  If  they  can  endure  sound  doc- 
trine like  his  he  will  surely  leave  a  blessing 
behind  him.  The  vice  chancellor  sent  after 
him  and  desired  his  notes,  which  he  sealed  up 
and  sent  immediately.  We  walked  back  in 
form,  the  little  band  of  us  four,  for  of  the  rest 
durst  none  join  us.' 

' '  In  his  journal  of  that  day  John  Wesley  says : 
'  I  preached,  I  suppose,  the  last  time  at  St. 
Mary's !  Be  it  so,  I  am  now  clear  of  the  blood 
of  those  men.  I  have  fully  delivered  my  own 
soul.'  Such  was  the  treatment  he  received  from 
the  university,  to  which  he  has  given  more  his- 
torical importance  than  any  other  graduate  of 
his  own  or  subsequent  times,  and  more,  perhaps, 
than  any  other  one  ever  will  give  it." 

The  Wesley  brothers  had  hitherto  been  too 
busy  in  the  service  of  God,  and  too  unsettled  in 
their  mode  of  life,  to  marry.  At  length,  in  his 
forty-first  year,  Charles  Wesley  married  the 
daughter  of  a  Welsh  squire,  a  lady  of  culture, 
refinement,  and  piety.  John  Wesley  enter- 
tained a  sincere  affection  for  a  pious  Methodist 
matron,  ]\Irs.  Grace  Murray.  She,  however,  be- 
came the  wife  of  one  of  his  lay  helpers,  and 
Wesley,  in  his  forty-ninth  year,  married  a  Mrs. 
Vizelle,  a  widow  lady  of  wealth  and  intelligence, 

74 


John  and  Chaulks  Wksley 

but  of  intolerably  jealous  disposition.     Her  am- 
ple property  was  secured  to  herself,  and  she  was 


KADCLIFFE    I.IHRAKV,    OXFORD. 

made  to  understand  that  the  great  evangelist 
was  not  to  abate  a  jot  of  his  constant  labor  and 
travel.  She  soon  grew  tired  of  his  wandering 
life.       For    twenty    years    she    persecuted    him 

75 


Makers  of  Methodism 

with  unfounded  suspicions  and  intolerable  an- 
noyances. His  letters  were  full  of  patience  and 
tenderness.  When  she  finally  left  him,  with 
the  assurance  that  she  would  never  return,  he 
wrote  in  his  journal,  ^'Non  cam  rcliqni,  7ion  di- 
missi,  non  revocabo  " — (I  did  not  forsake  her,  I  did 
not  dismiss  her,  I  will  not  recall  her). 

John  Wesley  made  many  visits  to  Ireland, 
and  showed  much  sympathy  toward  the  warm- 
hearted and  impulsive  Irish  people.  Sometimes 
he  was  bitterly  persecuted  by  a  Roman  Catholic 
mob,  but  often  he  was  astonished  at  their  cor- 
diality and  good  will.  He  describes  them  as 
an  immeasurably  loving  people. 

Thomas  Coke  visited  the  Green  Isle  still 
more  frequentl}',  and  toiled  without  stint  in 
preaching  the  Gospel.  Thomas  Walsh  was 
brought  up  a  zealous  Roman  Catholic,  but  be- 
came a  no  less  zealous  Methodist.  He  had  an 
extraordinary  facility  for  acquiring  languages, 
and  mastered,  besides  his  native  Irish  tongue, 
English,  Latin,  Greek,  and  Hebrew.  He  rose 
at  four  in  the  morning,  studied  till  late  at  night, 
laboring  arduously  during  the  day.  He  spent 
much  time  reading  his  Greek  and  Hebrew  Scrip- 
tures on  his  knees ;  and  was  so  familiar  with 
the  latter  that  he  could  quote  any  chapter  or 
verse. 

But  it  was  not  all  plain  sailing  in  Ireland.    In 

76 


John  and  Charles  Wesley 

Cork  a  drunken  mob  ranged  the  streets  shout- 
ing, "  Five  pounds  for  the  head  of  the  Swad- 
dler."  What  was  worse,  a  jury  made  the  fol- 
lowing presentment:  "  W^e  find  and  present 
Charles  Wesley  to  be  a  person  of  ill  fame,  a 
vagabond,  and  a  common  disturber  of  his  ma- 
jesty's peace,  and  we  pray  that  he  may  be  trans- 
ported." 

In  1744  John  Wesley  invited  a  number  of  his 
ministers  and  lay  assistants  to  a  council  in  the 
old  Foundry  at  London  in  June.  There  were 
present  four  ordained  ministers  of  the  Church 
of  England,  who  had  cast  in  their  lot  with  the 
Wesleys  in  their  toils  and  persecutions,  and  four 
lay  helpers.  These  faithful  men  remained  to- 
gether for  five  days,  discussing  questions  of  re- 
ligious doctrine  and  polity.  They  avoided  all 
unnecessary  dogmatics,  "confining  their  in- 
structions to  those  vital  truths  which  pertain  to 
personal  religion,  as  repentance,  faith,  justifica- 
tion, sanctification,  the  witness  of  the  Spirit." 
Thus  was  held  the  first  Methodist  Conference, 
the  type  of  many  thousands  which  have  since 
been  held  in  the  two  hemispheres.  Even  then 
Methodism  began  to  look  forward  to  the  crea- 
tion of  a  seminary  for  the  training  of  its  minis- 
ters, nor  did  it  rest  till  this  became  an  accom- 
plished fact. 

So  great  was  the  growth  of  the  London  socie- 
6  n 


Makers  of  Methodism 

ties  that  Mr.  Wesley  made  an  appeal  for  sub- 
scriptions to  the  amount  of  i^6,ooo  for  the  pro- 


is 
o 

Q 
O 

►J 
a 

< 

X 
u 

O 
< 

c 

a! 
>• 


posed  "  new  chapel."     At  length  the  City  Road 

Chapel  was  built  near  the  Foundry,  in  what  was 

then   open   fields,   but  is  now  a  wilderness  of 

78 


John  and  Charles  Wesley 

brick  and  stone.  This  is  the  best  known  of  all 
the  Wesleyan  chapels.  It  is  a  large,  plain,  and 
nearl}^  square  structure,  without  much  attempt 
at  architectural  display.  In  the  interior,  on  the 
walls  all  around,  are  numerous  marble  tablets  in 
memory  of  the  distinguished  preachers  who  have 
ministered  within  its  walls — John  and  Charles 
Wesley,  Fletcher,  Benson,  Coke,  Clarke,  Wat- 
son, Bunting,  Newton,  Punshon,  Gervase  Smith, 
and  many  others.  American  and  Canadian 
Methodisms  are  represented  by  marble  columns 
in  the  restored  structure.  In  the  graveyard 
rest  the  remains  of  the  founder  of  Methodism, 
of  Adam  Clarke,  Joseph  Benson,  Jabez  Bunting, 
and  of  many  another  whose  life  and  labors  were 
devoted  to  the  glory  of  God  in  the  service  of 
Methodism. 

In  Bunhill  Fields  burying  ground,  just  oppo- 
site, lies  the  dust  of  Susanna  Wesley ;  also  of 
the  glorious  dreamer,  John  Bunyan ;  of  Isaac 
Watts,  the  sweet  singer;  and  of  Daniel  Defoe, 
author  of  Robinson  Crusoe.  These  three  are 
probably  the  best  known  writers  of  the  English 
tongue. 

"  City  Road  Chapel  burying  ground,"  said 

John  Wesley,  "  is  as  holy  as  any  in  England." 

Aye,    truly.      From   all   parts  of    Christendom 

come  pilgrims  to  visit  that  sacred  spot.      Beside 

the  tomb  of  John  Wesley  grows  an  elder  tree, 

79 


Makers  of  Methodism 

clippings  from  which  have  been  transplanted  to 
almost  every  part  of  the  world — an  emblem  of 
the  Church  which  he  planted,  which  has  taken 
root  and  brought  forth  its  blessed  fruit  in  every 
clime. 

In  this  venerable  mother  church  of  Meth- 
odism for  many  years  service  was  held,  as  at  the 
Foundry,  at  five  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  we 
have  records  of  large  gatherings  assembling  on 
Christmas  Day  at  four  o'clock,  and  again  at  ten. 

In  connection  with  City  Road  Chapel  was  the 
preacher's  house,  a  very  plain  brick  building. 
In  a  small  room  of  this,  used  as  a  bedroom  and 
study,  John  Wesley  died.  For  over  a  hundred 
years  it  has  been  occupied  by  his  successors, 
and  the  same  plain  and  simple  furniture — 
chair,  table,  and  desk — that  he  used,  are  still 
to  be  seen.  It  has  now  been  set  apart  as  a 
Wesleyan  museum  and  as  a  home  for  Christian 
workers. 

It  seems  to  bring  one  nearer  to  the  springs 
of  Methodism  to  stand  in  the  old  pulpit  in 
which  its  early  fathers  preached;  to  sit  in 
Wesley's  chair;  to  see  the  room  in  which  he 
died;  the  study,  a  very  small  room,  in  which 
he  wrote  many  of  his  books;  the  very  time- 
worn  desk  at  which  he  sat ;  and  then  to  stand 
by  the  grave  in  which  he  is  buried.     In  the 

old  parsonage  is  shown  the  teapot,  of  generous 

80 


John  and  Charles  Wesley 

dimensions,  from  which  Wesley  used  to  regale 
the  London  preachers  every  vSunday.  On  one 
side  is  the  verse  beginning  **  Be  present  at  our 
table,  Lord,"  and  on  the  other  the  words,  "We 
thank  thee,  Lord,  for  this  our  food,"  etc. 

Up  to  his  sixty-ninth  year  John  W^esley  kept 
up  his  round  of  travel,  amounting  to  five  thou- 
sand miles  a  year,  on  horseback.  After  this 
his  friends  provided  him  with  a  carriage.  "  He 
paid  more  tolls,"  says  Southey,  "  than  any  other 
man  in  England."  The  grand  old  man  ascribed 
his  health  and  strength  to  his  out-of-door  life, 
to  his  constant  rising  at  four  o'clock,  to  the  fact 
that  he  never  lost  a  night's  sleep  in  his  life,  to 
his  constant  preaching,  particularly  at  five 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  for  fifty  years,  and,  last, 
to  his  contentment  of  mind.  "  By  the  grace  of 
God,"  he  says,  "  I  fret  at  nothing." 

It  is  truly  amazing  that  so  venerable  a  man 
could  be  heard  by  so  many  persons  out  of 
doors.  At  Gwennap  Pit,  a  great  natural  am- 
phitheater, two  hundred  and  forty  feet  in 
diameter,  he  was  heard  distinctly  by  over 
thirty  thousand  persons.  At  Moorfields,  once 
the  scene  of  reckless  riot,  there  were  thousands 
upon  thousands,  "and  all  was  as  still  as  night." 
In  towns  where  once  no  Methodist  could  show 
his  head  he  was  welcomed  to  the  pulpits  of  the 

Established  Church.     The  allurements  of  rest 

8i 


Makers  of  Methodism 

and  leisure  could  not  detain  his  earnest  soul. 
In  his  seventy-sixth  year  he  writes:  "  I  rested 
at  Newcastle ;  lovely  place,  lovely  company ! 
but  I  believe  there  is  another  world.  There- 
fore I  must  arise  and  go  hence."  And  the  next 
day  he  was  away,  preaching  twice  before  the 
sun  went  down. 

He  visited  with  diligence  from  house  to 
house  in  the  most  noisome  purlieus  of  East 
London.  He  had  not  found  any  such  distress, 
not  even  in  Newgate  Prison.  On  his  eightieth 
birthday  he  writes,  "  Blessed  be  God,  my  time 
is  not  labor  and  sorrow."  He  felt  no  more  pain 
or  infirmity  than  at  twenty-one.  On  his  eighty- 
third  birthday  he  repeats,  "It  is  eleven  years 
since  I  felt  such  a  thing  as  weariness."  His 
hale  and  hearty  old  age  was  full  of  keen  appre- 
ciation of  nature  and  of  the  eager  study  of  books, 
including  the  Italian  classics  and  current  litera- 
ture. In  commenting  upon  the  picturesque 
scenery  of  his  travels  he  reflects,  "Never- 
theless the  eye  is  not  satisfied  with  seeing, 
nor  ever  shall  be  till  it  see  the  King  in  his 
beauty." 

When  over  eighty  he  made  two  journeys  to 
Holland,  preaching  at  The  Hague,  Utrecht, 
Amsterdam,  and  Rotterdam,  and  greatly  en- 
joying the  historic  and  patriotic  associations  of 

these    cities.      He    knew    everyone    best  worth 

82 


John  and  Charles  Wksley 

knowing  in  the  United  Kingdom.  At  Lincoln 
he  called  on  his  old  friend,  Dr.  Samuel  Johnson, 
who  highly  appreciated  his  visit,  and  regretted 
only  Wesley's  economy  of  time.  "He  talks 
well  on  any  subject,"  said  the  great  moralist. 
"  I  could  converse  with  him  all  night." 

John  Howard,  the  great  philanthropist,  be- 
fore leaving  England  on  his  last  ' '  circumnavi- 
gation of  charity,"  called  at  City  Road  to 
present  Wesley  with  a  copy  of  his  latest  quarto 
on  prisons.  With  Wilberforce,  the  philanthro- 
pist, John  Wesley  was  in  keenest  sympathy,  and 
to  him  he  wrote  his  last  letter,  in  which  he 
designates  the  African  slave  trade  as  "that  exe- 
crable villainy  which  is  the  scandal  of  religion,  of 
England,  and  of  human  nature." 

The  genial  old  man  was  ever  a  lover  of  chil- 
dren. At  Oldham  he  found  "a  whole  street 
lined  with  them — a  troop  of  boys  and  girls  who 
closed  him  in,  and  would  not  let  him  go  until  he 
had  shaken  each  of  them  by  the  hand."  In  his 
eighty-eighth  year  he  preached  a  special  ser- 
mon to  children  in  words  of  not  more  than  two 
syllables.  His  appearance  in  extreme  old  age 
is  described  as  a  pattern  of  neatness  and  sim- 
plicity, his  hair  as  white  as  snow,  and  his  smile 
one  of  peculiar  benignity. 

Feeling  that  he  must  soon  lay  down  his  work 
he  framed,   in  1784,  the  Deed  of  Declaration, 

83 


Makers  of  Methodism 

whereby  a  hundred  of  his  preachers  were  con- 
.stituted  the  Legal  Conference  after  his  death. 
In  their  name  were  held  all  the  chapels  and  par- 
sonages and  other  property  of  the  Wesleyan  Con- 
nection. He  also  set  apart  Dr.  Coke  as  super- 
intendent or  bishop  of  the  American  Methodist 
Church,  as  elsewhere  described. 

In  his  eighty-fifth  year  the  grand  old  man 
acknowledges  that  he  is  not  so  agile  as  for- 
merly, that  he  has  occasional  twinges  of  rheuma- 
tism, and  suffers  slight  dimness  of  sight,  his 
other  senses  remaining  unimpaired.  "  How- 
ever, blessed  be  God,"  he  says,  "  I  do  not  slack 
from  my  labor,  and  can  preach  and  write  still." 
From  being  one  of  the  worst  hated  he  became 
one  of  the  best  beloved  men  in  the  kingdom. 
At  Cork,  where  he  was  once  mobbed  and  burned 
in  effigy,  he  was  met  by  a  cortege  of  mounted 
horsemen.  At  Falmouth,  where  he  had  been 
taken  prisoner  by  an  immense  mob  "roaring 
like  lions,"  high  and  low  now  lined  the  street 
from  one  end  of  the  town  to  the  other,  "  out  of 
love  and  kindness,  gaping  and  staring  as  if  the 
king  were  going  by."  At  Burslem  the  people 
gathered  so  early  in  the  morning  that  he  began 
to  preach  at  half  past  four.  At  Newgate  he 
preached  to  forty-seven  men  under  sentence  of 
death,    "  the   clink   of  whose  chains  was  very 

awful."     But  most  of  them  sobbed  with  broken 

84 


John  and  Charles  Wesley 

hearts  while  he  proclaimed,  "There  is  joy  in 
heaven  over  one  sinner  that  repenteth." 

On  his  last  birthday  he  writes  that  although 
his  strength  had  forsaken  him  so  that  he  had  to 
be  helped  into  the  pulpit,  and  his  eyes  had  be- 
come dim,  yet  he  felt  no  pain. 

In  i/yo,  for  the  last  time,  John  Wesley  pre- 
sided at  his  Conference  at  Bristol,  being  then  in 
his  eighty-eighth  year.  His  response  to  the 
salutations  of  the  multitudes  who  gathered 
around  him  as  he  passed  was  that  of  St.  John 
the  Divine,  "  Little  children,  love  one  another." 
He  now  ceased  recording  his  receipts  and  ex- 
penditures in  his  account  book.  His  last  entry 
is  a  remarkable  one:  "  For  upward  of  eighty- 
six  years  I  have  kept  my  accounts  exactly ;  I  will 
not  attempt  it  any  longer,  being  satisfied  with 
the  continual  conviction  that  I  save  all  I  can, 
and  give  all  I  can;  that  is,  all  I  have."  It  is 
scarcely  legible,  and  the  error  in  the  number  of 
years  given  shows  the  failure  of  his  faculties. 

When  his  income  was  but  thirty  pounds  a 
year  he  confined  his  expenses  to  twenty-eight 
pounds  and  gave  away  two.  When  it  reached  one 
hundred  and  twenty,  which  seems  to  have  been 
its  largest  amount,  he  still  lived  on  his  old 
allowance  and  gave  away  ninety-two  pounds. 
Besides  this  he  earned  a  large  amount  by  his 
numerous  writings.     This  was  generously  em- 

85 


Makers  of  Methodism 

ployed  in  carrying  on  his  great  work.  It  is 
estimated  that  lie  gave  away  over  thirty  thou- 
sand pounds  which  he  had  earned  with  his  pen. 

His  was  a  serene  and  sunny  old  age  which 
mellowed  as  the  years  passed  by.  His  early 
asceticism  had  long  disappeared.  One  of  his 
pious  helpers  complained  that  by  Wesley's 
witty  proverbs  he  was  tempted  to  levity.  To  a 
blustering  fellow  who  attempted  to  throw  him 
down,  saying,  "Sir,  I  never  make  way  for  a 
fool,"  Wesley  replied,  "I  always  do,"  and 
politely  stepped  aside.  But,  for  the  most  part,  he 
endured  persecution  and  buffeting  with  the 
meekness  of  his  Master,  and  when  smitten  on 
one  cheek  he  literally  turned  the  other  also. 

Notwithstanding  his  extreme  age,  there 
seemed  no  limit  to  his  energy.  After  performing 
along  service  of  three  hours,  praying,  preaching, 
and  administering  the  sacrament,  he  preached 
again  in  the  open  air.  The  next  day  he  preached 
twice  in  different  towns,  and  in  the  evening  to 
a  crowd  in  the  chapel,  and  to  a  multitude  with- 
out, who  could  hear  through  the  open  win- 
dows. And  so  on,  day  after  day,  preaching 
twice  or  thrice  daily,  beginning  at  five  o'clock  in 
the  morning. 

In  his  last  letter  to  America  he  writes,  with 

a  sense  of  the  essential  unity  of  Methodism  the 

wide  world  over,  "  Lose  no  opportunity  of  de- 

86 


John  and  Charles  Wesley 

daring-  to  all  men  that  the  Methodists  are  one 
people  in  all  the  world,  and  that  it  is  their  full 
determination  so  to  continue." 

On     February    22,    1791,    he    preached     his 


WESLEY    IN    HIS   OLD    AGE. 


last  sermon  in  City  Road  Chapel,  and  the  fol- 
lowing day  his  last  sermon  on  earth.  "On 
that  day,"  says  Dr.  Abel  Stevens,  "  fell  from  his 

d3dng  grasp  a  trumpet  of  the  truth  which  had 

87 


Makers  of  Methodism 

sounded  the  everlasting  Gospel  oftener,  and 
more  effectually,  than  that  of  any  other  man  for 
seventeen  hundred  years.  Whitefield  preached 
eighteen  thousand  sermons,  more  than  ten  a 
week  for  his  thirty-four  years  of  ministerial  life. 
Wesley  preached  forty-two  thousand  four  hun- 
dred after  his  return  from  Georgia,  more  than 
fifteen  a  week." 

The  following  vSunday  he  quoted  with  cheer- 
fulness his  brother's  hymn  : 

"  Till  glad  I  lay  this  body  down, 

Thy  servant,  Lord,  attend  ; 
And,  O,  my  life  of  mercy  crown 

Witli  a  triumphant  end  !  " 

and  repeated  over  and  over  again  the  lines : 

"  I  the  chief  of  sinners  am. 
But  Jesus  died  for  me." 

Two  days  later  he  sang  with  fervor : 

"  I'll  praise  my  Maker  while  I've  breath, 
And  when  my  voice  is  lost  in  death. 

Praise  shall  employ  my  nobler  powers ; 
My  days  of  praise  shall  ne'er  be  past, 
While  life,  and  thought,  and  being  last. 

Or  immortality  endures." 

Twice  he  repeated  the  words,  "  The  best  of  all 
is,  God  is  with  us;"  and  with  the  words,  "  Fare- 
well !  farewell !  "  upon  his  lips,  his  spirit  passed 
into  the  .skies.     In  accordance  with  his  will,  six 

poor  men  bore  him  to  his  grave  in  the  rear  of 

88 


John  and  Charles  Wesley 

City  Road  Chapel.  "He  directed  that  there 
should  be  no  hearse,  no  coach,  no  escutcheon, 
no  pomp,  except  the  tears  of  those  who  loved 
him,  and  were  following  him  to  heaven."  So 
great  was  the  multitude  that  thronged  to  pay  a 
last  tribute  of  love  that  it  was  deemed  best  to 
bury  him  before  six  in  the  morning.  Neverthe- 
less, a  great  multitude  were  present,  and  their 
tears  and  sobs  attested  the  depths  of  their  affec- 
tion. 

It  has  been  well  said  "that  few  men  could 
have  endured  to  travel  so  much  as  he  did,  with- 
out either  preaching,  writing,  or  reading ;  that 
few  could  have  endured  to  preach  as  often  as  he 
did,  supposing  they  had  neither  traveled  nor 
written  books ;  and  that  very  few  men  could 
have  written  and  published  so  many  books  as 
he  did,  though  they  had  always  avoided  both 
preaching  and  traveling." 

Charles  Wesley,  the  poet  of  Methodism,  was 
almost  as  great  a  marvel  as  his  venerable 
brother.  Up  to  his  eightieth  year  he  main- 
tained his  vigor  of  body  and  mind.  His  last 
hymn,  dictated  to  his  wife  on  his  deathbed, 
was  the  sweet,  sad  note  of  the  dying  swan  about 
to  set  sail  on  a  sea  of  glory : 

"  In  age  and  feebleness  extreme, 
Who  shall  a  sinful  worm  redeem.' 
Jesus,  my  only  hope  thou  art, 
89 


Makers  of  Methodism 

Strength  of  my  failing  flesh  and  heart  : 
O  could  I  catch  one  smile  from  thee. 
And  drop  into  eternity  !  " 

He  was,  for  the  volume  and  excellence  of  his 
verse,  the  greatest  hymnist  the  world  has  ever 
seen.  He  composed  his  immortal  songs  chiefly 
on  horseback  as  he  rode  "from  town  to  town, 
from  mob  to  mob,"  writing  them  in  pencil  in 
shorthand  characters  on  a  card.  Often  when  he 
came  to  his  lodgings  he  would  call  out  for  pen 
and  ink,  and  complete  the  hymn  while  the  in- 
spiration was  upon  him. 

Some  of  his  finest  lyrics  were  composed  dur- 
ing his  travels  at  the  time  when  the  early 
Methodists  were  daily  assaulted,  maltreated, 
and  persecuted.  He  often  recited  and  some- 
times sang  them  among  the  raging  mobs.  Four 
of  them  were  written  "  to  be  sung  in  a  tumult," 
and  one  was  a  "  prayer  for  the  first  martyr."  It 
was  soon  to  be  found  appropriate.  ISIany  others 
were  inspired  by  the  triumphant  deaths  of  these 
holy  confessors  of  the  faith. 

Over  six  hundred  of  his  hymns   have    been 

collected  in  the  Wesleyan  hymn  book.      About 

forty-six  hundred  in  all  have  been  printed,  but 

about  two  thousand  still  remain  in  manuscript. 

Many  of  these,  by  their  spiritual  exaltation  and 

poetic  merit,  have  won  their  way  into  the  hym- 

naries    of   nearly  all    the    Christian    Churches. 

90 


John  and  Charles  Wesley 

They  have  inspired  the  faith  and  voiced  the  feel- 
ino-.s  of  unnumbered  millions,  and  have  been 
lisped  by  the  pallid  lips  of  the  dying  as.  shout- 


CHARLES   WESLEY, 
"  THE   SWEET   SINGER   OF   METHODISM." 

ing  their  triumphant  songs,  they  have  "swept 
through  the  gates  "  of  the  celestial  city. 

A  great  hymn  is  one  of  God's  best  gifts  to 
his  Church.  When  the  voice  that  first  sang  it 
is    silent    forever   the    hymn    will    go    singing 

91' 


Makers  of  Methodism 

through  the  ages  in  many  lands  and  many 
tongues.  Every  great  revival  has  been  largely 
dependent  on  the  help  of  sacred  song.  The 
doctrines  of  the  Reformation  in  Germany  flew 
abroad  on  the  wings  of  the  hymns  and  carols  of 
Martin  Luther,  The  Wesleyan  revival  found 
its  most  potent  ally  in  the  immortal  hymns  of 
Charles  Wesley. 

"To  the  sweet  singer  of  Methodism,"  says 
Dr.  W.  F.  Tillett,  "  our  Church  owes  more  than 
to  any  other  man  save  his  brother  John.  The 
doctrines  of  early  Methodism  were  not  only 
preached  into  the  ears,  but  they  were  sung  into 
the  minds  and  hearts  of  the  people  in  and 
through  the  matchless  hymns  of  this  seraphic 
poet  of  the  Church." 

"Let  me  write  the  songs  of  a  people,"  said 
one,  "  and  I  care  not  who  may  write  their  laws: 
I  will  govern  them . "  "  Let  me  write  the  hymns 
of  a  church,"  said  another,  "and  I  care  not 
who  may  write  her  creeds  and  her  ponderous 
volumes  of  theology :  I  will  determine  the  faith 
of  the  people." 

So  these  hymns  of  Charles  Wesley  have 
molded  the  thought  and  life  of  Methodism  be- 
yond any  other  influence.  "  His  songs  have 
helped  more  souls  to  happiness,  to  holiness  and 
heaven  than  those  of  any  other  bard  since  the 

days  of  the  Psalmist  of  Israel." 

92 


John  and  Charles  Wesley 

Much  as  his  hymns  arc  appreciated  by  Meth- 
odists, some  of  the  most  glowing  criticisms  and 
eulogies  of  his  verse  have  come  from  other  than 
Methodist  writers.  "Christian  experience," 
says  James  ;Montgomery,  "  from  the  depths  of 
affection,  through  all  gradations  of  doubt,  fear, 
desire,  faith,  hope,  and  expectation,  to  the 
transports  of  perfect  love  in  the  very  beams  of 
the  beatific  vision,  furnishes  him  with  everlast- 
ing and  inexhaustible  themes,  celebrated  with 
an  affluence  of  diction  and  a  splendor  of  color- 
ing rarely  surpassed." 

Henry  Ward  Beecher  said:  "  I  would  rather 
have  written  that  hymn  of  Wesley's,  '  Jesus, 
Lover  of  my  soul,'  than  have  the  fame  of  all  the 
kino-s  that  ever  sat  on  the  earth.  It  is  more 
glorious.  It  has  more  power.  I  would  rather 
be  the  author  of  that  hymn  than  hold  the 
wealth  of  the  richest  man  in  New  York.  lie 
will  die.  He  will  pass  after  a  little  while  out  of 
men's  thoughts.  But  that  hymn  will  go  on 
singing  until  the  last  trump  brings  forth  the 
anofcl  band ;  and  then,  I  think,  it  will  mount 
up  on  some  lip  to  the  throne  of  God."  It  is 
the  hymn  probably  more  used  than  any  other  in 
the  English  language. 

Between  his  conversion  and  death  Charles 
Wesley  wrote  nearly  seven  thousand  hymns, 
fillinof  thirteen  octavo  volumes  of  five  hundred 

t  9j 


Makers  of  Methodism 

pages  each  ;  exceeding  all  the  poetry  of  Watts, 
Cowper,  and  Pope  put  together.  He  wrote  on 
an  average  nearly  three  hymns  a  week  for  fifty 
years.  And  the  number  of  his  hymns  is  only 
equaled  by  their  range  and  variety,  spanning 
as  they  do  the  sublime  empyrean  from  the  first 
cry  of  a  newborn  babe  to  the  last  shout  of  a 
dying  spirit.  His  memory  will  live  immortal 
in  his  immortal  verse  till  time  shall  be  no  more. 
To  quote  from  the  inscription  on  his  tomb : 

"  Posterity  shall  hear  and  ijabes  rehearse 
The  healing  virtues  of  a  Saviour's  name  ; 

Yes,  babes  unborn  shall  sing  in  Wesley's  verse. 
And  still  reiterate  the  pleasing  theme." 

He  was  the  laureate  of  the  affections,  and 
had  a  hymn  for  almost  every  event  in  life.  At 
the  time  of  his  marriage  to  Miss  Sarah  Gwynne, 
they  sang  hymns  of  solemn  joy  composed  by 
himself  for  the  occasion  ;  and  just  after  the  cere- 
mony he  took  his  lovely  young  bride  behind 
him  on  horseback,  and  they  sang  other  hymns 
with  pious  joy  as  they  rode  thus  along  the  way. 
His  married  life  was  as  full  of  happiness  as  his 
brother  John's  was  of  domestic  misery. 

Two  of  Charles  Wesley's  sons  became  dis- 
tinguished musicians.  A  great-grandson,  a 
venerable  gentleman  of  silvery  hair  and  ex- 
quisite musical  taste,    is   the   organist  of   City 

Road  Chapel,  London. 

94 


John  and  Charles  Wesley 

It  is  fitting  that  in  Westminster  Abbey,  that 
"  temple  of  silenee  and  reconeiliation,"  that 
mausoleum  of  England's  mighty  dead,  there 
should  be  a  memorial  of  the  two  great  men  who 
did  so  mueh  to  mold  the  higher  life  of  the 
nation.     The    beautiful    mural    monument    of 


WESLEY   MEMORIAL  TABLET,  WESTMINSTER   ABBEY. 


John  and  Charles  Wesley,  which  is  shown  in 
our  cuts,  is  one  of  the  first  which  Methodist 
tourists  from  all  parts  of  the  world  visit  in  the 
venerable  abbey.  It  was  unveiled  by  Dean 
Stanley  on  March  30,  1876,  in  the  presence  of  a 
large  company  of  invited  guests — ministers, 
laymen,  and    ladies.     The  company  assembled 

95 


Makers  of  Methodism 

first  in  tlie  cliapter-house,  in  which  the  first 
Englisli  Parliament  was  held. 

Dean  Stanley,  in  unveiling  the  monument, 
expressed  the  obligation  which  the  Church  of 
England,  which  England  itself,  and  which  the 
Church  of  Christ  owed  to  the  labors  of  John  and 
Charles  Wesley. 

Immediately  beneath  the  sculptured  picture 
of  the  scene  in  the  churchyard  is  John  Wesley's 
great  philanthropic  declaration : 

"  I  LOOK  UPON  ALL  THE  WORLD  AS  MY  PARISH." 

And  under  this,  on  the  sloping  line  at  the  bot- 
tom, is  graven  Charles  Wesley's  exultant  ex- 
clamation : 

"  God  BURIES  His  Workman,  but  carries  on 

His  Work." 

Dr.   Daniels  eloquently  remarks:    "It  is  but 

just   that   some   memorial    of   that    royal    man 

should  be  set  up  among  the  tombs  of  England's 

princes,  bishops,  heroes,  and  statesmen.     Other 

men  have  been  kings  by  the  accident  of  birth, 

of  royal  blood  :   John  Wesley  reigned  by  virtue 

of    the  divine  anointing.     Other  bishops  have 

worn  the  miter  and  carried  the  keys  through 

the  devious  workings  of  State  Church  prefer- 

96 


John  and  Charles  Wesley 


mcnt:  John  Wesley  was  a  bishop  by  the  j^raee 
of  God.  Other  heroes  have  earned  their  honors 
by  ravaging  sea  and  land  to  kill,  burn,  and  de- 
stroy:   Wesley,   with  equal  courage  and    c(|ual 


t  LOOK  UPON  ALL  THE    WORLD    AS  MV   PABISH 


.<_■>;,  ■■MJiC^jt'i  rJCyiBg 


1  H  ,       f-  r*'f 


WESLKY    MEMORIAL    TAF.LET,     WESTMINSTER    A)!1!KV. 

skill,  achieved  his  fame  not  by  killing,  but  by 

saving  men." 

97 


Makers  of  Methodism 


V 

John  Nelson,  the  Yorkshire  Mason 

"  I,  John  Nelson,  was  born  in  the  parish  of 
Birstal,  in  the  West  Riding  of  the  County  of 
York,  in  October,  1 707,  and  brought  up  a  mason, 
as  was  my  father  before  me."  Thus  begins 
one  of  the  most  remarkable  books  in  the  lan- 
guage. In  simple,  homely  Saxon  words  the 
author  tells  the  story  of  his  life.  We  get  in 
his  pages  a  vivid  picture  of  England  a  hun- 
dred and  fifty  years  ago — of  its  spiritual  desti- 
tution, and  of  the  great  Wesleyan  revival  that 
swept  over  it,  and  gave  it  a  grand  moral  im- 
pulse, which  is  felt  throughout  the  world. 

John  Nelson's  life  was  one  of  holy  zeal  and 
grandest  heroism.  Like  many  a  man  through 
whom  God  has  blessed  the  world,  he  was  made 
to  pass  through  intense  religious  experience, 
doubtless  that  he  might  better  counsel  and  com- 
fort those  who  were  in  spiritual  distress.  We 
shall  tell  the  story  as  much  as  possible  in  his 
own  words.  While  yet  a  boy  he  was  "  horribly 
terrified  with  the  thoughts  of  death  and  judg- 
ment."    As  the  awful  imagery  of  the  Apocalypse 

was  presented  to  his  mind  the  word  came  with 

98 


John  Nelson,  the  Yorksihre  Mason 

such  power  that  he  "  fell  with  his  face  on  the 
floor,  and  wept  till  the  place  was  as  wet  where 
he  lay  as  if  water  had  been  poured  thereon." 
Still,  he  had  no  saving  acquaintance  with  the 
truth  till  after  his  marriage  and  settlement  in 
life.  But  all  the  while  his  heart  cried  out  for  the 
living  God.  The  hand  of  God  was  heavy  upon 
him,  and  often  forty  times  a  day  he  prayed  for 
pardon.  His  fellow-workmen  persecuted  him 
because  he  would  not  drink  with  them,  till  he 
fought  with  several  of  them ;  then  they  let  him 
alone.  He  wandered  from  one  part  of  the  king- 
dom to  another,  seeking  rest  and  finding  none. 

In  his  thirtieth  year  he  writes :  "  O  that  I  had 
been  a  horse  or  a  sheep!  Rather  than  live 
thirty  years  more  as  I  have  I  would  choose 
stranjilinof.  O  that  I  had  never  been  born !  " 
An  awful  sense  of  the  reality  of  the  unseen 
world  and  of  the  impending  terrors  of  the  judg- 
ment day  weighed  like  an  intolerable  load  upon 
him.  He  went  from  church  to  church — to  wSt. 
Paul's,  to  the  Dissenters,  the  Quakers,  the  Ro- 
man Catholics,  to  "all  but  the  Jews" — to  try  to 
save  his  soul.  Still  the  burden  of  conscious 
guilt  was  imremoved.  He  realized  in  all  its  bit- 
terness that  ' '  by  the  deeds  of  the  law  there  shall 
no  flesh  be  justified." 

A  score  of  times  he  stood  amid  the  surging, 
grimy  throng  that  gathered  around  Whitefield 

99 


Makers  of  Methodism 

as  he  preached  on  Moorfields;  but  though  he 
loved  the  man  and  was  ready  to  fight  for  him, 
he  found  no  peace  from  hearing  him.  "The 
pains  of  hell  gat  hold  upon  him."  Sleep  de- 
parted from  his  eyes,  and  when  he  fell  into 
slumber  he  dreamed  that  he  was  engaged  in 
mortal  combat  with  Satan,  and  awoke  convulsed 
with  horror  and  affright. 

At  last  John  Wesley  preached  at  Moorfields. 
When  he  spoke  he  made  the  heart  of  Nelson 
beat  "like  the  pendulum  of  a  clock."  Convic- 
tion deepened .  His  friends  would  have  knocked 
Mr.  Wesley's  brains  out,  for  he  would  be  the 
ruin,  they  said,  of  many  families  if  he  were  al- 
lowed to  live  and  go  on  as  he  did.  For  weeks 
Nelson  wrestled  with  God  in  agony  of  soul.  At 
last  he  vowed  that  he  would  neither  eat  nor 
drink  till  he  found  forgiveness.  He  prayed  till 
he  could  pray  no  more.  He  got  up  and  walked 
to  and  fro,  and  prayed  again,  the  tears  falling 
from  his  eyes  like  great  drops  of  rain.  A  third 
time  he  fell  upon  his  knees,  but  ' '  was  as  dumb 
as  a  beast  before  God."  At  length,  in  an  agony, 
he  cried  out,  "  Lord,  thy  will  be  done  ;  damn  or 
save."  That  moment  was  Jesus  Christ  evidently 
set  before  him  as  crucified  for  his  sins.  His  heart 
at  once  was  set  at  liberty,  and  he  began  to  sing, 
"  O  Lord,  I  will  praise  thee;  though  thou  wast 
angry  with  me,  thine  anger  is  turned  away,  and 

lOO 


John  Nelson,  the  Yorkshire  Mason 

thou  comfortest  me."  Through  such  spiritual 
travail  was  this  valiant  soul  born  into  the  king- 
dom of  God. 

That  night  he  was  driven  from  his  lodgings 
on  account  of  his  much  praying  and  ado  about 
religion.  But  as  he  was  leaving  the  house  con- 
viction seized  his  hosts,  and  they  were  both,  man 
and  wife,  soon  made  partakers  of  the  same  grace. 

Nelson  was  ordered  to  oversee  some  work  on 
the  following  vSunday.  He  declined  and  was 
threatened  with  dismissal  from  his  employment. 

"I  would  rather  see  my  wife  and  children 
beg  their  way  barefoot  to  heaven,"  he  replied, 
"  than  ride  in  a  coach  to  hell.  I  will  run  the 
risk  of  wanting  bread  here  rather  than  the  haz- 
ard of  wanting  water  hereafter."  •  His  master 
swore  that  he  was  as  mad  as  Whitefield ;  that 
Wesley  had  made  a  fool  of  him.  But  instead  of 
being  dismissed  he  was  raised  higher  in  his 
master's  regard,  nor  were  any  men  set  to  work 
on  the  Sunday, 

In  all  this  time  he  had  never  spoken  to  Mr. 
Wesley,  nor  conversed  with  any  experienced 
person  about  religion.  He  longed  to  find  some 
one  to  talk  with ;  but,  he  pathetically  says,  he 
sought  in  vain,  for  he  could  find  none.  Never- 
theless, he  was  taught  of  God,  and  had  sweet 
fellowship  with  him  in  almost  constant  prayer 
and  in  the  study  of  his  Holy  Word, 

lOI 


Makers  of  Methodism 

Such  a  desire  for  the  salvation  of  souls  now- 
possessed  him  that  he  hired  one  of  his  fellow- 
workmen  to  hear  Mr.  Wesley  preach,  which  led 
to  his  conversion  and  that  of  his  wife. 

But  Nelson  was  permitted  to  be  sorely  buffeted 
by  Satan ;  grievous  temptations  assailed  his 
soul.  God's  hand,  too,  was  laid  heavily  upon 
him.  An  accumulation  of  calamities,  almost  like 
the  afflictions  of  Job,  overtook  him.  A  single  let- 
ter informed  him  that  his  almost  idolized  daugh- 
ter was  dead,  that  his  son's  life  was  despaired 
of,  that  his  wife  had  fallen  from  a  horse  and 
was  lamed,  that  his  father-in-law  was  dead,  and 
his  mother  sick.  But,  like  Job,  he  exclaimed, 
"Though  he  slay  me,  yet  will  I  trust  in  him." 

He  set  out  on  his  eventful  journey  to  York- 
shire, but  he  "had  no  more  thought  of  preach- 
ing than  of  eating  fire."  His  friends  were  as- 
tonished at  the  story  of  his  conversion.  They 
said  they  had  never  heard  of  such  a  thing  in 
their  lives.  His  mother  said  his  head  w^as 
turned.  "Yes,"  he  replied,  "and  I  thank  God 
my  heart  also."  His  neighbors  upbraided  and 
mocked  him.  His  wife  refused  to  live  with  him  ; 
but  by  his  faith  and  love  he  brought  her  to  a 
knowledge  of  the  Saviour. 

He  forthwith  began  exhorting  his  neighbors 
to  flee  from  the  wrath  to  come.  Like  Andrew, 
he  first  brought  his  own  brother  to  Jesus,  and  in 

I02 


John  Nelson,  the  Yorkshire  Mason 

a  few  days  six  of  his  neighbors  also.  There 
was  a  spiritual  famine  in  the  land,  and  he  had 
found  the  bread  of  life.  He  could  not,  there- 
fore, but  cry  aloud  to  those  who  were  perishing- 
of  soul  hunger.  Soon  his  aged  mother,  another 
brother,  and  most  of  his  kindred  were  brought 
to  God  ;  and  for  several  weeks,  six  or  seven  per- 
sons every  week  were  converted  through  his  ex- 
hortations. 

He  was  urged  to  preach,  but  he  exclaimed, 
"Lord,  thou  knowest  I  had  rather  be  hanged 
on  that  tree  than  go  to  preach;  "  and,  Jonah- 
like, he  fled  from  the  call  of  God.  A  great  con- 
gregation was  gathered  in  the  fields  and  begged 
him  to  preach.  He  fell  flat  on  his  face  and  lay 
an  hour  on  the  grass,  tasting,  he  believed,  the 
cup  of  the  lost.  "  Let  me  die  !  let  me  die  !"  he 
exclaimed,  in  bitterness  of  soul,  shrinking  from 
the  burden  of  this  cross.  But  in  his  anguish 
the  Sun  of  righteousness  shone  upon  him,  and 
he  exclaimed,  "  Lord,  I  am  ready  to  go  to  hell 
and  preach  to  devils  if  thou  requirest  it ! "  That 
nio"ht  two  men  were  converted  under  his  burn- 
ing  words,  which  he  took  as  the  seal  of  the  call 
of  God  to  preach  the  Gospel;  but  in  his  mental 
strait  he  would  have  given  ten  pounds,  he  said, 
for  an  hour's  conversation  with  Mr.  Wesley. 

Some  of  his  more  cautious  friends  now  urged 
him  to  wait  a  month  till  he  knew  more  of  his 

103 


Makers  of  Methodism 

own  heart.  But  the  word  of  God  was  a  fire  in 
his  bones,  and  he  replied,  "I  will  if  you  can 
persuade  the  devil  to  be  still  for  a  month  from 
going  about  like  a  roaring  lion,  seeking  whom 
he  may  devour."  Oftentimes  when  he  preached 
at  night,  after  his  day's  work,  the  people,  hun- 
gering for  the  bread  of  life,  refused  to  go  away, 
waiting  like  beggars  that  wanted  a  morsel  of 
food. 

Soon  he  began  his  ranging  through  the  king- 
dom, proclaiming  the  word  of  life.  As  he 
entered  Leeds  he  was  warned,  "If  you  preach 
there  you  need  not  expect  to  come  out  again 
alive,  for  there  is  a  company  of  men  that  swear 
they  will  kill  you." 

"All  the  men  in  the  town  cannot  kill  me," 
answered  the  dauntless  soul,  "  till  I  have  done 
my  Father's  work." 

At  Manchester  some  one  threw  a  stone  which 

cut  him  in  the  head,  but  as  his  audience  saw 

the  blood  running  down  his  face  they  kept  quiet 

till  he  had  done  preaching.     With  a  boldness 

not  less  than  Luther's  on  his  way  to  the  Diet  of 

Worms,   the  sturdy  Yorkshireman,  in  spite  of 

the  threat  that  he  would  be  mobbed  and  killed 

if  he  tried  to  preach  in  a  schoolhouse  that  had 

been  offered  at  Grimsb}',  exclaimed,  "By  the 

grace  of  God  I  will  preach  if  there  were  as  many 

devils  in  it  as  there  are  tiles  on  it." 

104 


John  Nelson,  the  Yorkshire  Mason 

Nelson's  most  bitter  opposition  came  from 
dissolute  clergymen  of  the  Established  Church. 
In  Derbyshire  a  drunken  parson  with  a  lot  of 
lead  miners  began  to  halloo  and  shout  as  if  they 
were  hunting  with  a  pack  of  hounds;  but  the 
power  of  the  truth  so  affected  the  rude  miners 
that  they  became  the  champions  of  the  man 
they  came  to  persecute.  Thus  God  put  a  bridle 
in  the  mouths  of  howling  mobs  who  came  not 
merely  to  mock,  but  to  kill,  and  many  of  them 
remained  to  pray. 

Nelson  was  summoned  by  Mr.  Wesley  to 
London.  But  he  had  worn  out  his  clothes  in 
the  cause  of  God,  and  had  none  fit  to  travel  in 
until  some  tradesmen,  unsolicited,  sent  him 
cloth  for  a  suit.  Unable  to  hire  a  horse  he  set 
out  on  foot  for  London,  preaching  as  he  went. 
The  aristocratic  gownsmen  and  embryo  parsons 
of  Oxford  vied  in  ruffianism  with  the  rude  miners 
of  Derbyshire.  ' '  I  never  heard  a  soldier  or  sail- 
or," says  Nelson,  "swear  worse  than  they  did." 

On  his  way  to  Cornwall  with  a  fellow-evan- 
gelist they  had  but  one  horse  between  them,  so 
they  rode  by  turns.  Like  the  apostle  Paul, 
Nelson  labored  with  his  hands  at  his  trade,  that 
he  might  not  be  burdensome  to  those  to  whom 
he  preached.  Nevertheless  he  was  sometimes 
in  want  of  bread,  and,  like  his  Master,  had  not 

where  to  lay  his  head.     At  St.  Ives  he  and  Mr. 

105 


Makers  of  Methodism 

Wesley  for  some  time  slept  every  night  on  the 
floor — the  learned  Oxford  Fellow  and  the  York- 
shire mason  side  by  side. 

"Mr.  Wesley,"  writes  Nelson,  "had  my 
great  coat  for  a  pillow,  and  I  had  Burkitt's  Notes 
on  the  New  Testament  for  mine.  After  being 
here  three  weeks,  one  morning,  about  three 
o'clock,  Mr.  Wesley  turned  over,  saying, 
'  Brother  Nelson,  let  us  be  of  good  cheer.  I 
have  one  whole  side  yet,  for  the  skin  is  off  but 
one  side.'  We  usually  preached  on  the  com- 
mons," he  adds,  "and  it  was  but  seldom  any- 
one asked  us  to  eat  or  drink." 

One  day,  after  preaching,  Mr.  Wesley  stopped 
his  horse  to  pick  the  wayside  berries,  saying, 
"Brother  Nelson,  we  ought  to  be  thankful  that 
there  is  plenty  of  blackberries ;  for  this  is  the 
best  country  I  ever  saw  for  getting  a  stomach, 
but  the  worst  I  ever  saw  for  getting  food.  ...  I 
had  thought  of  begging  a  crust  of  the  woman 
where  I  met  the  people  at  Morva,"  he  added, 
' '  but  forgot  it  till  I  had  got  some  distance  from 
the  house."  By  such  unostentatious  heroism 
were  the  foundations  of  Methodism  laid  in  Great 
Britain  by  these  apostolic  laborers. 

On  Nelson's  return  from  Yorkshire  he  found 

his  wife  ill  through  maltreatment  by  a  mob  while 

she  was  bravely  defending  a  preacher  whom  they 

were  assaulting.      "  You  are  Nelson's  wife,  and 

106 


John  Nelson,  the  Yorkshire  Mason 

here  you  shall  die,"  swore  the  savages,  and  did 
their  best  to  fulfill  their  threat. 

"In  Leeds,"  Nelson  naively  remarks,  "the 
mob  did  not  meddle  with  me,  only  some  boys 
threw  about  a  peek  of  turnips  at  me."  At  Not- 
tino-ham  a  sergeant  who  came  to  assault  him 
publicly  begged  his  pardon,  and  went  away 
weeping. 

At  Grimsby  the  church  parson  rallied  a 
drunken  mob  and  smashed  the  windows  and 
furniture  of  the  house  where  he  lodged  with 
paving  stones.  A  ringleader,  after  beating  his 
drum  three  quarters  of  an  hour,  began  to  listen, 
and  then  to  weep,  and  at  last  to  pray.  "So  we 
had  great  peace  in  our  shattered  house  that 
night,"  says  Nelson,  "and  God's  presence 
among  us." 

At  length  the  drink-loving  parsons  and  the 
alehouse  keepers — worthy  allies ! — resolved  that 
Nelson  must  be  impressed  into  the  army,  as  the 
only  way  to  stop  his  interference  with  their  pleas- 
ure or  profits.  Still  he  durst  not  keep  silent,  but 
continued  hewing  stone  all  day  and  preaching 
every  night.  ' '  I  am  not  my  own,  but  the  Lord's," 
he  said  ;  ' '  he  that  lays  hands  on  me  will  burn  his 
own  fingers." 

By  a  monstrous  perversion  of  justice  he  was 

arrested  as  a  vagrant;   i^5oo  bail  was  refused; 

and    the    commissioners  of   the    peace,  among 

107 


Makers  of  Methodism 

whom  was  the  parson,  impressed  him  as  a  soldier, 
under  the  penalty  of  death  if  he  refused.  Still 
his  soul  was  kept  in  perfect  peace,  and  he  prayed 
God  to  forgive  them,  for  they  knew  not  what 
they  did. 

With  other  prisoners  condemned  for  vagrancy 
and  theft  Nelson  was  marched  off  to  York,  he 
being  singled  out  for  special  severity.  At  Brad- 
ford he  was  lodged  in  a  noisome  dungeon,  reek- 
ing with  filth,  without  even  a  stone  to  sit  on,  and 
with  only  a  little  foul  straw  for  a  bed — a  type  of 
too  many  of  England's  prisons  a  hundred  years 
ap-o.  But  his  soul  was  so  filled  with  the  love  of 
God  that  the  felon's  cell  was  to  him  a  paradise. 
He  realized  that 

"  Stone  walls  do  not  a  prison  make. 
Nor  iron  bars  a  cage." 

Some  friends  brought  him  meat  and  drink, 
which  they  put  through  the  small  opening  in 
the  door,  and, 

"  Like  Paul  and  Silas  in  the  prison, 
They  sang  the  praise  of  Christ  arisen.' 

"  I  wished  that  my  enemies,"  wrote  Nelson, 
' '  were  as  happy  in  their  houses  as  I  was  in  the 
dungeon." 

At  four  o'clock  in  the  morning  his  noble  wife 
visited  his  cell  and  said,  although  she  then  most 
required  a  husband's  care,  "  Be  not  concerned 

io8 


John  Nelson,  the  Yorkshire  Mason 

about  me  and  the  ehildren.  He  that  feeds  the 
young  ravens  will  be  mindful  of  us;"  and  the 
brave-souled  husband  answered,  "  I  cannot  fear 
either  man  or  devil  so  long  as  I  find  the  love  of 
God  as  I  do  now." 

"  Now,  Nelson,  where  is  thy  God?"  jeered  a 
woman,  as  the  prisoners  stood,  like  a  gang  of 
slaves,  for  hours  in  the  streets  of  Leeds.  He  re- 
ferred her  to  Micah  vii,  8-10 :  "  Rejoice  not  over 
me,  O  mine  enemy:  when  I  fall,  I  shall  rise." 

Large  bail  was  offered  for  his  release,  but  was 
refused.  "I  am  too  notorious  a  criminal,"  he 
somewhat  bitterly  remarks,  "  to  be  allowed  such 
favors;  for  Christianity  is  a  crime  which  the 
world  will  never  forgive."  And  this  persecution 
took  place  in  Christian  England  little  more  than 
a  hundred  years  ago ! 

But  he  was  not  without  consolation.  "  I  find 
the  time  has  not  yet  come,"  he  says,  "  for  me  to 
be  hated  of  all  men  for  Christ's  sake."  At  night 
a  hundred  of  his  friends  visited  him  in  the 
jail.  They  sang  a  hymn  and  prayed  together, 
and  he  exhorted  them  through  the  opening  in 
his  cell  door. 

When   he  was  brought   before  the    military 

officers  he  boldly  reproved  them  for  the  sin  of 

swearing.      "  You  must  not  preach   here,"   he 

was  told  ;    but  he  answered,    "  There  is  but  one 

way  to  prevent  it — that  is,  to  swear  no  more  in 
8  109 


Makers  of  Methodism 

my  hearing."  All  York  came  forth  to  see  him 
led  under  guard  through  the  streets,  as  if  he 
"  had  been  one  that  had  laid  waste  the  nation ;" 
but  he  passed  through  the  city  as  if  there  had 
been  none  in  but  God  and  himself. 

He  refused  to  take  the  King's  money.  "  I 
cannot  bow  my  knee  to  pray  for  a  man  and  then 
get  up  and  kill  him,"  he  said.  Nevertheless,  he 
was  girded  with  the  weapons  of  war;  but  he 
bore  them  as  a  cross,  and  would  not  defile  his 
conscience  by  using  them.  But  if  he  was  bound 
the  word  of  God  was  not  bound ;  for  if  any  blas- 
phemed he  "reproved  them,  whether  rich  or 
poor." 

At  the  instigation  of  some  clergymen  he  was 
forbidden  to  preach  under  the  penalty  of  being 
severely  flogged;  but.  Peterlike,  he  replied, 
"  It  is  better  to  obey  God  than  man."  "  I  will 
have  no  preaching  nor  prajdng  in  the  regi- 
ment," swore  the  officer.  "Then,"  said  Nel- 
son, "You  should  have  no  swearing  nor  cursing 
either."  He  was,  however,  carried  off  to  prison  ; 
yet  God  enabled  him  to  rest  as  well  on  the  bare 
boards,  he  declares,  as  if  it  had  been  on  a  bed 
of  down.  "For  what  were  you  imprisoned?" 
demanded  the  major.  "  For  warning  people  to 
flee  from  the  wrath  to  come,"  said  the  intrepid 
preacher;    "  and  I  shall  do  so  again  unless  you 

cut  my  tongue  out." 

no 


John  Nki.son,  the  Yorksiiirk  Mason 

The  London  Methodists  having-  hired  a  sub- 
stitute to  serve  in  his  plaee,  through  the  influ- 
ence of  the  Wesleys  and  the  Countess  of  Hunt- 
ingdon with  the  Earl  of  wStair  the  discharge  of 
til  is  resolute  noncombatant  was  procured. 
When  he  left  the  regiment  several  of  his  fellow- 
soldiers  wept  and  desired  him  to  pray  for  them. 

He  was  now  free  to  indulge  his  hallowed  pas- 
sion— to  preach  the  Gospel  without  hindrance. 
For  the  most  part  the  people  heard  him  gladly; 
yet  in  many  places  lewd  fellows  of  the  baser  sort 
assailed  him  with  sticks,  stones,  and  filth. 
Once  a  halter  was  put  around  his  neck  to  drag 
him  to  the  river  to  drown  him.  At  Ackham,  in 
Yorkshire,  he  was  knocked  down  eight  times  in 
succession  by  a  drunken  mob  led  by  some 
"  young  gentlemen."  He  was  dragged  over  the 
stones  by  the  hair  of  the  head,  kicked,  beaten, 
and  trampled  on,  "  to  tread  the  Holy  Spirit  out 
of  him,"  as  the  murderous  wretches  blasphe- 
mously declared.  "  We  cannot  kill  him,"  they 
said  ;  "  if  a  cat  has  nine  lives  he  has  nine  score." 
' '  This, "  says  Nelson ,  ' '  was  on  Easter  Sunday" — 
a  strange  commemoration  of  the  day."  They 
swore  they  would  serve  Mr.  Wesley  the  same 
way,  "  Then  we  shall  be  rid  of  the  Metho- 
dists forever,"  they  said  ;  "  for  none  will  dare  to 
come  if  they  two  be  killed."  The  next  morn- 
ing this  Aja.x  of  Mctliodism  set  out  to  meet  Mr. 

Ill 


Makers  of  Methodism 

Wesley,  and  "was  enabled  to  ride  forty  miles 
that  day." 

But  these  things  were  light  afflictions;  for 
the  Gospel  had  free  course,  and  multitudes  were 
converted  to  God. 

Here  ends  the  remarkable  journal  of  John 
Nelson.  For  five-and-twenty  years  longer  he 
continued  to  range  through  the  kingdom  as  one 
of  Mr.  Wesley's  regular  helpers,  a  burning  and 
a  shining  light  to  all,  a  man  full  of  faith  and  of 
the  Holy  Ghost.  He  finished  his  course  with 
joy  in  the  sixty-seventh  year  of  his  age,  1774. 

We  shall  obtrude  no  comments  of  our  own 
upon  the  lesson  of  this  noble  life.  No  braver 
soul  ever  went  to  the  martyr's  stake,  or  won  the 
martyr's  starry  and  unwithering  crown.  He 
and  such  as  he,  by  their  consecrated  toils, 
their  suffering,  and  their  undying  zeal,  laid  the 
foundations  of  that  goodly  structure  of  Meth- 
odism that  now  rises  fair  throughout  the  land 
they  loved  so  well,  and  throughout  the  world. 
Their  memory  is  the  imperishable  heritage  of 
the  Church  universal.  It  shall  be  to  all  time, 
and  in  all  lands,  a  glorious  example  of  valiant 
living  and  holy  dying,  a  rebuke  to  indolence  or 
self-seeking,  and  an  inspiration  to  zeal  and 
energy  in  promoting  the  glory  of  God  and  the 

salvation  of  souls. 

112 


Silas  Told,  the  Prisoners'  Friend 


VI 

Silas  Told,  the  Prisoners^  Friend 

The  life  of  Silas  Told  was  one  of  extraordi- 
nary vicissitudes.  He  has  left  the  record  of  his 
remarkable  adventures  written  with  a  vividness 
of  detail  that  Defoe  might  have  envied.  He 
was  born  in  the  ancient  seaport  of  Bristol  in  the 
year  171 1.  Both  his  father  and  his  grandfather 
were  eminent  physicians,  and  landed  gentlemen  ; 
but  through  misfortune  and  ill-advised  specula- 
tion the  family,  on  the  father's  death,  were 
reduced  almost  to  poverty.  Silas  received  a 
meager  education  at  a  charity  hospital  endowed 
by  a  wealthy  East  India  merchant.  Here,  even 
in  boyhood,  he  was  the  subject  of  deep  convic- 
tions of  sin  and  of  subsequent  religious  enjoy- 
ment. While  swimming  with  some  school 
companions  he  was  nearly  drowned,  and  with 
difficulty  was  brought  back  to  life,  to  pass 
through  tribulations  which  "seemed  like  a  sea 
of  blood  and  fire." 

In  his  fourteenth  year  he  was  apprenticed  to 
a  West  India  sea  captain.  In  the  hard  school 
of  the  ship's  forecastle  he  received  such  barbar- 
ous treatment  that  he   thought  he  should  have 

113 


Makers  of  Methodism 

broken  his  heart  with  grief.  But  the  orphan 
cabin  boy,  alone  in  the  wide  world,  had  no  friend 
to  whom  he  could  apply  for  redress.  On  the 
Spanish  Main  the  crew  were  several  weeks  on 
the  short  allowance  of  a  single  biscuit  and  half 
a  pint  of  foul  water  per  day.  At  Kingston, 
Jamaica,  they  were  overtaken  by  a  hurricane, 
and  of  seventy-six  sail  in  the  harbor  only  one 
escaped  destruction. 

For  miles  along  the  shore  the  drowned  sea- 
men were  cast  up  by  the  waves  and  devoured  by 
the  vultures.  The  poor  lad  was  abandoned,  ill 
of  fever,  in  the  port  of  Kingston,  without  money 
or  friends,  and  lay  down  to  die.  Here  he 
"pondered  much  upon  Job's  case,  considering 
his  own  condition  similar  to  his."  Rescued 
from  death  by  a  London  captain,  he  returned  to 
England  and  was  soon  shipped  with  a  Guinea 
slaver,  bound  for  the  coast  of  Africa  and  the 
West  Indies.  A  greater  villain  than  his  new 
master,  he  writes,  he  firmly  believed  never  ex- 
isted. From  the  Negro  savages  he  received 
more  kindness  than  from  his  own  countrymen. 
The  appalling  cruelties  of  that  floating  hell,  a 
slave  ship,  w^ere  never  more  vividly  described. 
Battened  down  under  the  hatches  half  the 
human  cargo  were  suffocated  in  a  single  night. 
Driven    to    frenzy   by  outrage    and  wrong  the 

slaves  rose  in  mutiny.     Overpowered  by  their 

114 


Silas  Told,  tiik  Prisoners'  Friend 

tyrants  many  plunged  overboard  and  were 
drowned.  Cruelty  and  murder  rioted  unre- 
strained. **  The  mariners,"  says  Told,  "seemed 
greedy  of  eternal  death  and  damnation."  The 
unhappy  boy  amid  these  vile  companionships, 
plunged  recklessly  into  sin ;  yet,  through  the 
mercy  of  God,  his  terrified  conscience  was  never 
without  fear  of  death  and  the  judgment. 

The  outrages  and  wrongs  wreaked  upon  the 
hapless  slaves  in  Jamaica  were  too  revolting  to 
be  described.  By  an  awful  and  inevitable  retri- 
bution such  wickedness  degraded  masters  as 
well  as  slaves.  In  his  many  sojourns  on  the 
island  Told  never  met  a  single  person  having 
the  fear  of  God,  or  even  the  form  of  god- 
liness. 

With  a  sailorlike  vein  of  superstition  he  tells 
us  that  on  the  home  voyage,  the  captain  being 
sick,  a  hideous  devilfish  followed  the  ship  for 
eighteen  hundred  miles,  and  on  the  captain's 
death  disappeared  and  was  seen  no  more. 

During  a  later  vo3^age  the  vessel  in  which 
Told  sailed  was  captured  by  Spanish  pirates, 
and  the  crew  were  informed  that  "  every  one  of 
them  should  be  hanged,  and  that  without  cere- 
mony." The  prize,  with  its  crew,  made  its 
escape,  however,  but  only  to  be  wrecked  upon  a 
rocky  shore.  The  crew  were  rescued  by  a  New 
England  vessel,    but    were    again    wrecked    on 

115 


Makers  of  Methodism 

Martha's  Vineyard.  Reaching  the  mainland 
they  set  out  for  Boston,  but  were  arrested  for 
traveling  on  Sunday.  In  Boston,  "  a  commodi- 
ous and  beautiful  city,"  Told  remained  four 
months,  and — marked  contrast  to  Jamaica — 
never  heard  an  oath  uttered,  nor  saw  any  Sab- 
bath-breaking, nor  found  an  individual  guilty 
of  extortion.  "Would  to  God,"  he  exclaims, 
"  that  I  could  say  this  of  the  inhabitants  of  old 
England!  " 

After  several  other  voyages,  in  one  of  which, 
through  stress  of  weather,  the  ship's  company 
could  dress  no  food  nor  change  their  wet  cloth- 
ing for  six  weeks,  the  whole  crew  were  pressed 
for  the  royal  navy.  The  commander  of  the 
ship  to  which  Told  was  assigned,  in  striking 
exception  to  many  of  his  class  of  that  age,  was 
a  devout  Christian,  and  used  constantly  to  visit 
the  ship's  invalids  and  pray  at  their  bed- 
sides. 

The  story  of  Told's  short  sailor  courtship  and 
marriage  is  recorded  in  four  lines.  He  now 
joined  the  royal  fleet  of  twenty-four  ships  of  the 
line,  which  soon  sailed  for  Lisbon  to  protect  the 
Brazil  fleet  from  the  Spaniards.  They  lay  at 
anchor  in  the  Tagus  ten  months  and  then  re- 
turned to  Chatham,  which  movement  occupied 
another  month.    Those  were  the  leisurely  times 

before  the  days  of  steam  and  telegraphy.     Told 

ii6 


Silas  Tuld,  the  Prisoners'  Friend 

was  now  paid  off,  and  disgusted  with  the  hard- 
ships and  wickedness  of  a  life  before  the  mast, 
he  never  went  to  sea  again. 

"  Being  now  married,  and  desirous  of  living 
a  regular  life,"  as  he  says,  "  he  habituated  him- 
self to  churchgoing ;  "  but  finding  churchmen 
living  as  others  he  hastily  concluded  that  re- 
ligion was  a  mere  sham.  He  obtained  the  posi- 
tion of  a  schoolmaster  on  the  magnificent  salary 
of  ^14  a  year.  The  curate  of  the  parish  fre- 
quently decoyed  Told  to  his  lodgings  to  join 
him  in  smoking,  drinking,  and  singing  songs, 
so  that  often  his  guest  could  scarcely  find  his 
way  home.  As  the  sailor  once  quoted  a  text  of 
scripture  the  parson  exclaimed,  "  Told,  are  you 
such  a  blockhead  as  to  believe  that  stuff  ?  It  is 
nothing  but  a  pack  of  lies."  Such  clerical  influ- 
ence and  example  certainly  did  not  deepen  his 
conviction  of  the  reality  of  religion. 

He  shortly  after  found  employment  with  a 
builder  in  London.  One  day  a  young  brick- 
layer asked  him  some  questions  on  business. 
Told  answered  him  roughly,  which  treatment 
the  young  man  received  with  much  meekness. 
"This,"  said  Told,  "  struck  me  with  surprise." 
That  young  man,  by  his  meek  silence,  had 
preached  an  eloquent  sermon  which  led  to  his 
companion's  conversion,  and  through  that  to  the 

conversion  of  multitudes  of  others. 

117 


Makers  of  Methodism 

His  new  acquaintance  introduced  him  among 
"  the  people  called  Methodists."  Told  tried  to 
stifle  his  convictions  by  cursing  and  swearing  at 
his  friend  who  had  been  largely  the  cause  of 
them;  but  the  young  man  bore  it  all  with  un- 
wearied patience,  without  returning  one  evil 
look  or  word.  "  His  countenance,"  says  Told, 
"  appeared  full  of  holy  grief,  which  greatly  con- 
demned me." 

Told  was  at  length  induced  to  go  .o  early 
Methodist  service  at ' '  The  Foundry. "  He  found 
it  a  ruinous  old  place  which  the  government  had 
used  for  casting  cannon.  It  had  been  abandoned, 
and  was  much  dilapidated.  Above  the  smoke- 
begrimed  rafters  was  seen  the  tile  roof  covering. 
A  few  rough  deal  boards  were  put  together  to 
form  a  temporary  pulpit.  Such  was  the  rude 
cradle  of  that  wondrous  child  of  Providence 
called  Methodism. 

Exactly  at  five  o'clock  a  whisper  ran  through 
the  large  congregation  that  had  assembled, 
"  Here  he  comes!  Here  he  comes !  "  Told  ex- 
pected to  see  some  farmer's  son,  who,  not  able 
to  support  himself,  was  making  a  penny  in  this 
low  manner.  Instead  of  this  he  beheld  a  learned 
clergyman  of  the  Established  Church  arrayed  in 
gown  and  bands.  The  singing  was  much  en- 
joyed, but  the  extempore  prayer  savored  rather 

of  Dissent    for   Told's    sturdy  Churchmanship. 

ii8 


Silas  Toi.n,  the  Prisoners'  Friend 

Wesley's  text  was,  "  I  write  unto  you,  little  chil- 
dren, because  your  sins  are  forgiven  you."  The 
words  sank  into  the  heart  of  the  long  storm- 
tossed  sailor,  weary  with  bearing  its  load  of  sor- 
row and  sin.  With  a  characteristic,  generous 
impulse,  he  exclaimed,  '•  As  long  as  I  live  I  will 
never  leave  this  man." 

He  soon  met  persecution.  "  What,  Told,  are 
you  a  Whitefieldite?"  jeered  his  boon  compan- 
ions. "  As  sure  as  you  are  born,  if  you  follow 
them  you  are  damned,"  admonished  these  zealous 
enemies  of  Methodism.  His  wife,  also,  although, 
he  says,  "  a  worthy,  honest  woman,"  swore  at 
him  and  said  :  "  I  hope  you  have  not  been  among 
the  Methodists.  I'll  sacrifice  my  soul  rather 
than  you  shall  go  among  those  miscreants." 
Thus  was  the  despised  sect  everywhere  spoken 
against.  His  firmness  and  afi'ection,  however, 
overcame  her  opposition. 

Told  was  soon  requested  by  j\Ir.  Wesley  to 
undertake  the  teaching  of  the  charity  children 
at  the  Foundry  school,  at  the  salary  of  ten  shill- 
ings a  week.  At  this  work  he  continued  for 
seven  years,  having  the  children  under  his  care 
from  five  in  the  morning  till  five  in  the  evening, 
both  winter  and  summer.  During  this  time  he 
educated  two  hundred  and  seventy-five  boys, 
"most  of  them  fit  for  any  trade."  Thus  early 
did  Methodism  grapple  with  the  social  problem 

119 


Makers  of  Methodism 

of  the  education  of  the  ignorant  masses  of  the 
population. 

One  morning,  as  Told  and  his  scholars  at- 
tended the  five  o'clock  sermon,  Mr.  Wesley 
preached  from  the  words,  "I  was  sick  and  in 
prison,  and  ye  visited  me  not."  The  generous- 
hearted  sailor  was  conscience  stricken  at  his  neg- 
lect of  what  was  now  revealed  as  a  manifest  duty, 
and  was  "  filled  with  horror  of  mind  beyond  ex- 
pression." Learning  that  ten  malefactors  were 
lying  at  Newgate  under  sentence  of  death,  he 
committed  his  school  without  an  hour's  de- 
lay to  the  care  of  an  usher,  and  hastened  to  the 
prison. 

Silas  Told  had  at  length  found  his  vocation. 
For  five  and  thirty  years  he  continued  to  burrow 
in  the  dungeons  of  London  and  the  neighbor- 
ing towns — often  literally  to  burrow,  for  many 
of  them  were  underground — carrying  the  light 
and  liberty  of  the  Gospel  to  their  dark  cells,  and 
to  the  still  darker  hearts  of  their  inmates.  The 
unvarnished  story  of  his  experiences  abounds  in 
incidents  of  the  most  thrilling,  and  often  har- 
rowing, interest. 

He  was  often  locked  up  with  the  felons  all 
nieht  before  their  execution.  He  sat  beside 
them  as  they  rode  to  the  gallows  in  the  death 
cart  with  the  halter  on  their  necks,  sharing  with 
them  the  jibes  and  jeers,  and  sometimes  the  mis- 

I20 


Silas  Tolu,  the  Prisoners'  Friend 

siles,  of  the  mob  who  gloated  over  their  misery. 
He  prayed  with  them  and  exhorted  and  eom- 
forted  them  as  they  stood  on  the  brink  of 
eternity.  He  begged  or  purchased  their  bodies 
for  burial,  and  often  succored  their  wretched  and 
suffering  families.  He  led  many  to  repentance 
and  the  forgiveness  of  sins. 

Hardened  criminals  broke  down  tmder  his 
loving  exhortations ;  and  turnkeys,  sheriffs,  and 
hangmen  wept  as  they  listened  to  his  prayers. 
Friendless  and  degraded  outcasts  clung  to  him 
for  sympathy  and  counsel,  and  through  the 
manifestation  of  human  love  and  pity  caught  a 
glimpse  of  the  infinite  love  and  pity  of  Him  who 
died  as  a  malefactor  to  save  the  malefactors. 

Through  his  influence  the  felon's  cell  became 
to  many  the  gate  of  heaven.  The  ribald  oaths 
and  obscene  riots  of  the  British  jails — then  the 
vilest  in  Europe,  save  those  of  the  Inquisition — 
often  gave  place  to  the  singing  of  Christian 
hymns  and  the  voice  of  prayer  and  praise.  At 
one  time  Told  had  a  Methodist  society  of  thirty 
members,  and  at  another  of  thirty-six  members, 
among  the  poor  debtors  of  Newgate.  Yet  was 
he  "very  cautious  of  daubing  them  with  un- 
tempered  mortar,"  but  sought  to  bring  about 
their  real  and  permanent  conversion. 

The  chief  opposition  to  this  Christlike  work 
came    from    the    "ordinaries,"    or    chaplains, 

121 


Makers  of  Methodism 

whose  hireling  and  heartless  service  was  put  to 
shame  by  the  intense  and  loving  zeal  of  this 
voluntary  evangelist.  But  he  burst  through 
every  obstacle,  and,  ' '  in  the  name  of  God,  would 
take  no  denial." 

The  appalling  condition  of  that  prison  world 
with  which  he  became  so  familiar  makes  one 
recoil  with  horror.  In  many  of  the  prisons 
there  was  little  or  no  classification  of  age  or  sex, 
and  hardened  felons  became  the  teachers  in 
crime  of  youthful  offenders  against  cruelly  un- 
just laws.  The  extortion  and  rapacity  and  in- 
humanity of  jailers  and  turnkeys  seem  to  us 
almost  incredible.  The  dungeons  reeked  with 
squalor  and  wretchedness  and  filth.  Honest 
debtors  were  confined,  sometimes  for  years,  in 
odious  cells;  and,  as  a  favor,  were  permitted, 
caged  like  wild  beasts,  to  solicit  the  precarious 
charity  of  passers-by.  Men  and  women  were 
dragged  on  hurdles  to  Tyburn  and  hanged  by 
the  score  for  forgery,  for  larceny,  for  petty 
theft.  Worst  of  all.  Told  cites  certain  instances 
which  demonstrate,  by  the  subsequent  discovery 
of  the  real  criminal,  that  sometimes  innocent 
persons  had  fallen  victims  to  this  vSanguinary 
code. 

One  young  woman  was  thus  judicially  done 
to  death,  although  even  the  sheriff  was  con- 
vinced of  her  innocence.     A  ribald  mob  clam- 

122 


Silas  Told,  the  Prisoners'  Friend 

ored  for  her  blood.  Her  religious  resignation 
was  jibed  at  as  hardness  of  heart,  and  so  great 
was  the  popular  fury  that  Told,  riding  with  her 
to  the  gallows,  was  in  imminent  peril  of  assault. 
Her  innocence  was  afterward  completely  es- 
tablished. 

Told  records  the  tragic  circumstances  of  a 
poor  man  who  was  hanged  for  stealing  sixpence 
to  buy  bread  for  his  starving  wife  and  babes. 
Their  parting  in  the  prison  was  a  harrowing 
scene.  Told  collected  from  a  poor  Methodist 
congregation  a  sum  of  money  for  the  destitute 
widow,  and  successfully  overcame  the  official 
brutality  of  the  poorhouse  guardians  so  as  to 
obtain  for  her  parish  relief. 

On  another  occasion  the  multitude,  when  ex- 
horted by  Told  to  pray  for  the  passing  soul, 
answered  with  a  shout  of  execration  and  a 
shower  of  stones  that  endangered  the  life  of  the 
culprit  before  the  law  could  do  its  work. 
"  Nothing  could  have  equaled  them,"  says  Told, 
"  but  the  spirits  let  loose  from  the  infernal 
pit."  Yet  all  this  did  not  draw  off  the  mind  of 
the  dying  woman  from  resting  in  that  supreme 
hour  on  the  Lord  Jesus. 

Sometimes  a  rescue  of  the  culprit  was  at- 
tempted by  his  friends.  A  volley  of  stones 
would  assail  the  sheriff's  posse,  and  a  rush  would 
be  made  toward  the  gallows.     Then  the  ghastly 

123 


Makers  of  Methodism 

proceedings  would  be  hurried  through  with  the 
most  indecent  dispatch  and  confusion. 

Yet  the  frequency  of  this  awful  spectacle  did 
not  diminish  crime.  On  the  contrary  it  flour- 
ished, seemingly  unrestrained,  beneath  the  very 
gallows.  Familiarity  with  scenes  of  violence 
created  a  recklessness  of  human  life  and  pro- 
pensity to  bloodshed.  Often  the  confederates 
of  the  felon  surrounded  the  gibbet  and  encour- 
aged the  partner  of  their  guilt.  Even  the 
sheriff's  officers  sometimes,  by  their  crimes,  in- 
curred the  penalty  they  assisted  to  inflict.  We 
may  well  rejoice  that,  through  the  ameliorating 
influence  of  a  revived  Christianity  on  the  penal 
discipline  and  social  life  of  Christendom,  such 
scenes  of  horror  are  now  scarcely  conceivable. 

Sometimes  the  faithful  warninof  and  most 
solemn  adjuration  of  this  hero-heart,  burning 
with  such  passionate  zeal  to  "  pluck  poor  souls 
out  of  the  fire,"  though  he  probed  the  guilty 
conscience  to  the  quick,  failed  to  move  men  to 
repentance,  even  on  the  awful  brink  of  perdition  ; 
but  many,  without  doubt,  found,  through  tem- 
poral death,  eternal  life. 

Sometimes  Told  had  the  great  joy  of  convey- 
ing a  reprieve  to  the  condemned.  After  a  con- 
vivial election  dinner  three  young  sprigs  of 
nobility,  half  crazed  with  drink,  diverted  them- 
selves by  playing  highwaymen  and  robbing  a 

124 


Silas  Told,  the  Prisoners'  Friend 

farmer.  One  of  them,  an  officer  on  one  of  the 
king's  ships,  was  betrothed  to  Lady  Betty- 
Hamilton,  the  daughter  of  an  ancient  ducal 
house.  The  lady  importuned  the  king  upon 
her  knees  for  the  life  of  her  lover.  ' '  Madame," 
said  his  majesty,  ' '  there  is  no  end  to  your  im- 
portunity. I  will  spare  his  life  upon  condition 
that  he  be  not  acquainted  therewith  till  he  ar- 
rives at  the  place  of  execution."  The  con- 
demned man  fainted  with  joy  when  the  reprieve 
was  communicated  to  him ;  ' '  but  when  I  saw 
him  put  into  a  coach,"  says  Told,  "  and  per- 
ceived that  Lady  Betty  Hamilton  was  seated 
therein,  in  order  to  receive  him,  my  fear  was  at 
an  end." 

Many  were  the  checkered  scenes  in  which 
this  humble  hero  bore  a  prominent  part.  He 
was  not  only  a  remarkable  trophy  of  divine 
grace,  but  an  example  of  the  power  of  Meth- 
odism to  use  lowly  and  unlettered  men  in  evan- 
gelistic and  philanthropic  work. 

What  was  the  inspiration  of  this  unwearying 
zeal?  It  was  the  entire  consecration  of  an 
earnest  soul  to  the  service  of  its  divine  Master. 
At  a  time  when  Told  rose  daily  at  four  o'clock, 
attended  morning  service  at  five,  and  toiled 
every  spare  hour  for  the  prisoner  and  the 
outcast,  he  was  agonizing  in  spirit  over  the  re- 
mains of  the  carnal  mind.      Like  the  Psalmist, 

9  135 


Makers  of  Methodism 

he  even  forgot  to  eat  bread  by  reason  of  his  sin. 
Often  he  wandered  in  the  fields  till  near  mid- 
night, "roaring  for  very  disquietude  of  soul." 
If  he  might,  he  says,  he  would  have  chosen 
*♦  strangling  rather  than  life." 

At  length  deliverance  came.  The  heavens 
seemed  visibly  to  open  before  him,  and  Jesus 
stood  stretching  forth  his  bleeding  palms  in  the 
benediction  of  full  salvation.  Tears  gushed 
from  the  eyes  of  the  impassioned  suppliant,  and 
in  ecstasy  he  exclaimed,  "  Lord,  it  is  enough !  " 

Thus  was  he  anointed  to  preach  good  tidings 

to  the  prisoners,  to  bind  up  the  broken-hearted, 

to  proclaim  liberty  to   them  that  w^ere  bound. 

Like  the  Lord  he  loved  he  went  about  doing 

good,  till,  with  the  weight  of  well-nigh  seventy 

years  upon  him,    "he  cheerfully  resigned  his 

soul  into  the  hands  of  his  heavenly  Father." 

126 


George  Whitefield,  the  Great  Evangelist 


VII 

George  "Whitefield,  the  Great  Evangelist 

The  peculiar  glory  of  Methodism  is  that 
through  its  influence  men  of  lowliest  origin 
and  often  of  sinful  lives  have  been  transformed 
into  saints  and  apostles.  But  this  is  only  a 
repetition  of  the  miracle  of  grace  which  made 
Newton,  the  slave  trader,  the  eloquent  preacher; 
and  John  Bunyan,  the  swearing  tinker,  the  most 
wadely  read  of  all  English  writers. 

The  story  of  George  Whitefield,  one  of  the 
mightiest  preachers  the  world  has  ever  seen,  is 
a  striking  illustration  of  the  transforming  grace 
of  God.  He  was  born  in  Gloucester,  England, 
in  1 7 14,  the  son  of  an  innkeeper.  Two  years 
later  his  father  died,  and  the  poor,  neglected  boy 
grew  up  in  the  evil  atmosphere  of  the  taproom, 
amid  the  coarse  surroundings  and  bad  examples 
of  its  lounging  and  drinking  patrons. 

When  he  was  fifteen  years  old,  he  tells  us,  he 

put  on  his  blue  apron,  washed  mops,  cleaned 

rooms,  and  became  the  common  drawer  in  the 

inn  which  his  mother  kept  in  the  great  port  of 

Bristol.      He  describes  his  youth  as  exceedingly 

vicious.     "  If  the  Almighty  had  not  prevented 

127 


Makers  of  Methodism 

me  by  his  grace,"  he  says,  "  I  had  now  been 
sitting  in  darkness  tinder  the  shadow  of  death." 
It  is  probable,  however,  that  his  sensitive  con- 
science prompted  these  self-accusings  in  the  sense 
in  which  Paul  and  John  Wesley  each  declared 
himself  to  be  the  "  chief  of  sinners." 

The  work  of  the  Latin  monk,  Thomas  h 
Kempis,  T/ie  Imitation  of  Christ,  fell  into  his 
hands,  and  awakened  in  his  soul  the  conviction 
of  sin.  The  boy  had  exhibited  some  natural 
eloquence,  and  won  some  reputation  by  his 
school  declamations.  He  earnestly  desired  to 
become  a  scholar.  It  was  possible  in  those  days 
for  a  poor  student  to  enter  Oxford  as  a  "serv- 
itor," providing  for  his  expenses  chiefly  by 
performing  menial  duties  for  his  fellow-col- 
legians. This  young  Whitefield  resolved  to  do. 
Thomas  a  Kempis  had  made  a  deep  impression 
upon  his  mind,  but  he  had  not  yet  apprehended 
the  doctrine  of  justification  by  faith.  He  en- 
deavored to  earn  the  pardon  of  his  sins  by 
prayer  and  penance.  He  has  left  on  record 
that  when  sixteen  years  of  age  he  began  to  fast 
twice  a  week  for  thirty-six  hours  together.  He 
prayed  many  times  a  day,  and  received  the 
sacrament  every  ten  days.  He  fasted  himself 
almost  to  death  during  the  forty  days  of  Lent, 
and  practiced  private  devotions  seven  times  a 

day.      "  But,"  he  adds,  "I  knew  no  more  that  I 

128 


GEORGE   WHITEKIELD. 


Makers  of  Methodism 

was  to  be  born  a  new  creature  in  Jesus  Christ 
than  if  I  was  never  born  at  all." 

About  this  time  he  heard  of  the  Methodists, 
and  procured  at  last  an  introduction  to  the  Ox- 
ford "  Holy  Club."  "  They  built  me  up  daily," 
he  says,  "  in  the  knowledge  and  fear  of  God, 
and  taught  me  to  endure  hardness  as  a  good 
soldier  of  Jesus  Christ."  He  now  began  to 
"live  by  rule,"  from  which  practice  the  Metho- 
dists acquired  their  name.  He  found  this  prac- 
tice at  first  difficult,  but  at  last  delightful.  He 
engaged  in  the  practice  of  visiting  the  poor  and 
neglected,  the  sick  and  the  prisoners. 

The  state  of  morality  at  Oxford  was  very 
low.  A  subtle  infidelity  prevailed,  and  even 
the  observance  of  religion  was  cold  and  formal. 
"This  zealous  young  soul  passed  through," 
says  Dr.  Stevens,  ' '  an  ordeal  of  agonizing 
self-conflicts.  He  selected  the  poorest  food  and 
the  meanest  apparel,  and  by  dirty  shoes,  patched 
raiment,  and  coarse  gloves  endeavored  to  mor- 
tify his  burdened  spirit."  The  students  threw 
dirt  at  him  in  the  street,  and  when  he  knelt 
down  to  pray  he  felt  such  pressure  of  soul  and 
body  that  the  sweat  dripped  from  his  face. 

"  God  only  knows,"  he  writes,  "how  many 

nights  I  have  lain  upon  my  bed  groaning  under 

what  I  felt.     Whole    days  and    nights  have   I 

spent  lying  prostrate  on  the  ground  in  silent  or 

130 


George  VVhitefield,  the  Great  Evangelist 

vocal  prayer."  During  Lent,  for  the  most  part, 
he  ate  nothing  but  coarse  bread  and  sage  tea. 
He  prayed  under  the  trees  at  night,  trembling 
with  the  cold,  till  the  college  bell  called  him  to 
his  room,  where  he  often  spent  in  tears  and  sup- 
plications the  hours  which  should  have  brought 
him  sleep.  His  health  sank  under  these  rigors. 
But  at  last  he  was  able  to  lay  hold  of  the  cross 
by  a  living  faith  and  the  burden  of  his  guilt 
rolled  forever  away. 

Shortly  after  this  he  was  ordained  by  the 
Bishop  of  Gloucester.  ' '  I  can  call  heaven  and 
earth  to  witness,"  he  wrote,  "that  when  the 
bishop  laid  his  hand  upon  me,  I  gave  my. self  up 
to  be  a  martyr  for  Him  who  hung  upon  the  cross 
for  me. 

He  now  set  forth  on  his  flaming  evangel, 
"the  John  the  Baptist  of  Alethodism,"  to  pre- 
pare the  way  in  both  hemispheres  for  the  Wes- 
leys  and  their  fellow-helpers.  He  was  without 
a  guinea  in  the  world.  The  good  bishop  made 
him  a  present  of  five  sovereigns.  His  marvelous 
eloquence  was  soon  felt  as  a  spell  of  power.  At 
his  first  sermon  it  was  reported  that  fifteen  of 
his  hearers  had  gone  mad.  The  bishop  only 
wished  that  the  madness  might  not  pass  away. 
Whitefield  was  called  to  London  to  preach  in 
the  grim  old  Tower,  which  had  been  the  scene 
of  many  a  somber  tragedy.     He  labored  with 

131 


Makers  of  Methodism 

zeal  among  the  soldiers  in  the  barracks  and 
hospitals,  preaching  every  week  at  Ludgate 
Prison. 

John  Wesley,  then  in  Georgia,  invited  him 
to  proceed  thither.  "You  ask  me  what  you 
shall  have?"  he  said.  "Food  to  eat,  raiment 
to  put  on,  a  house  to  lay  your  head  in,  such  as 
your  Lord  had  not ;  and  a  crown  of  glory  that 
fadeth  not  away."  Whitefield,  therefore,  started 
to  Bristol  to  sail  for  America,  preaching  where- 
ever  he  had  a  chance.  The  churches  were 
thronged  before  dawn  with  people  lighting  their 
way  with  lanterns  to  hear  him.  He  tmderstood 
the  language  and  the  heart  of  the  common  peo- 
ple, and  they  heard  him  gladly.  He  spoke 
directly  to  their  souls,  which  responded  warmly 
to  his  appeals. 

On  shipboard  he  preached  with  strange  power 

to  the  soldiers,  sailors,  emigrants — a  wicked  and 

reckless  class.     In  Georgia  he  labored  zealously 

among  the  Indians  as  well  as  among  the  white 

people.      His  sympathies  were  deeply  touched 

on  behalf  of  the  many  orphan  children  whom  he 

found.     He  felt  a  call  from  God  to  create  an 

asylum  for  their  protection  and  training,   and 

returned  to  England  full  of  this  design.     But 

the  Church  established  by  law  refused  to  permit 

her  most  gifted  son  to  preach  from  her  pulpits. 

With  the  Wesleys  he  soon  began  "  ranging  the 

132 


George  Whitefield,  the  Great  Evangelist 

kingdom,"  preaching  on  moor  and  common,  at 
the  village  markets  and  at  the  crossroads. 
Soon  great  multitudes,  increasing  to  five,  ten, 
fifteen,  and  twent}-  thousand,  listened  to  his  soul- 
stirring  sermons.  "  He  could  see  the  effect  of 
his  words  by  the  white  gutters  made  by  tears 
which  trickled  down  the  blackened  cheeks  of  the 
miners,  for  they  came  unwashed  out  of  the  coal- 
pits to  hear  him." 

John  Wesley  could  scarcely  reconcile  himself 
at  first  to  this  field  of  preaching,  "  Till  very 
lately,"  he  writes,  "  I  was  so  tenacious  of  every 
point  relating  to  decency  and  order  that  I  should 
have  thought  the  saving  of  souls  almost  a  sin 
if  it  had  not  been  done  in  a  church."  But 
soon  he,  too,  was  preaching  to  the  colliers 
and  plowmen  and  fishermen  throughout  the 
kingdom. 

At  Moorfields  and  on  Kennington  Common 
the  clear,  ringing  voice  of  Whitefield  could 
be  heard  by  vast  multitudes  who  thronged 
to  hear  the  new  prophet.  "Scores  of  car- 
riages, hundreds  of  horsemen,  and  thirty  or 
forty  thousand  on  foot,"  says  Dr.  Stevens, 
"thronged  aroiind  him.  Their  .singing  could 
be  heard  two  miles  off,  and  his  own  voice  a 
mile.  Wagons  and  scaffolds  were  hired  to  the 
throng  that  they  might  the  better  hear  and  see 

the  wonderful  preacher,  who,  consecrated  and 

133 


Makers  of  Methodism 

gowned  as  a  clergyman  of  the  national  hier- 
archy, had  broken  away  from  its  rigid  decorum 
and,  like  his  divine  Master,  had  come  out  into 
the  highways  and  hedges  to  save  their  neglected 
souls." 

The  people  contributed  generously  to  his 
orphan  asylum.  He  records  one  collection  of 
which  nearly  one  half  consisted  of  nearly  ten 
thousand  pieces  of  copper. 

In  1739  Whitefield  again  visited  America. 
His  eloquence  aroused  the  good  Quakers  and 
Presbyterians  of  Philadelphia  to  enthusiasm. 
His  favorite  out-of-door  pulpit  was  the  balcony 
of  the  old  courthouse  in  Market  Street.  His  voice 
could  be  heard  on  the  opposite  shore  of  the 
Delaware.  From  Savannah  to  Boston  he  ranged 
through  the  country.  Twenty  thousand  per- 
sons gathered  beneath  the  trees  on  Boston  Com- 
mon  to  hear  him.  At  New  Haven  the  Legislature 
was  in  session.  He  preached  before  them  with 
wonderful  power  and  pathos.  "  Thanks  be  to 
God,"  said  the  aged  governor  of  the  province, 
"  for  such  refreshment  on  our  way  to  heaven." 
In  seventy-five  days  he  had  preached  one  hundred 
and  seventy-five  sermons,  and  stirred  the  con- 
sciences of  thousands  from  Maine  to  Georgia. 

An  unhappy  alienation  for  a  time  now  took 
place  between  Whitefield  and  his  old  friends,  the 
Wesleys.     Whitefield  had  adopted  the  Calvin- 

134 


George  Whitefield,  the  Great  Evangelist 

istic  doctrine  of  election.  He  felt  himself  to 
have  been  so  vile  a  sinner  that  he  could  not  but 
ascribe  his  own  conversion  to  injEinite  and  sov- 
ereign grace  which  had  elected  him  from  all 
eternity  to  everlasting  life.  But  the  estrange- 
ment between  such  loving  hearts  could  not  long 
continue.  They  were  soon  reconciled,  and  con- 
tinued to  labor  in  love  and  loyalty  till  their  lives' 
end. 

Whitefield  was  frequently  assaulted  and  mal- 
treated. Yet  his  influence  over  a  turbulent  mob 
was  marvelous.  During  the  Whitsuntide  holi- 
days, when  drummers,  trumpeters,  merry-an- 
drews,  mastersof  puppet  shows,  exhibitors  of  wald 
beasts,  and  players  were  all  busy  in  entertaining 
their  respective  groups,  he  shouted  his  text, 
"Great  is  Diana  of  the  Ephesians,"  and  boldly 
charged  home  upon  them  the  vice  and  peril  of 
their  dissipations.  Stones,  dirt,  rotten  eggs, 
and  dead  cats  were  thrown  at  him.  "  My  soul," 
he  says,  "  was  among  lions."  But  before  long 
he  prevailed,  and  the  immense  multitude  were 
turned  into  lambs.  No  less  than  a  thousand 
notes  were  afterward  handed  up  to  him  for 
prayers  from  persons  who  had  been  brought 
"under  conviction"  that  day,  and  soon  after 
upward  of  three  hundred  were  received  into  the 
society  at  one  time.  ISIany  of  them  were  "  the 
devil's  castaways,"  as  he  called  them.      "  Num- 

135 


Makers  of  Methodism 

bers  that  seemed  to  have  been  bred  up  for  Ty- 
burn were  at  that  time  plucked  as  brands  from 
the  burning." 

In  1750,  one  morning  at  five  o'clock,  a  great 
earthquake  shook  the  city  of  London.  Wesley 
was  preaching  in  the  Foundry  at  the  time,  and 
cried  out  to  the  agitated  people,  "Therefore 
w411  we  not  fear,  though  the  earth  be  removed, 
and  though  the  mountains  be  carried  into  the 
midst  of  the  sea ;  for  the  Lord  of  hosts  is  with 
us;  the  God  of  Jacob  is  our  refuge."  London 
looked  like  a  sacked  city,  with  people  flying  in 
coaches  and  on  foot  to  escape  the  impending 
peril.  The  earthquake  shocks  continued,  and 
Whitefield  preached  amid  a  midnight  tempest  in 
Hyde  Park  to  an  awe-stricken  multitude  on  the 
more  dreadful  terrors  of  the  dissolving  world 
and  of  the  judgment  day. 

He  continued  year  after  year  ranging  through 
the  kingfdom  from  Land's  End  to  Edinburo^h  and 
Glasgow.  "  Invitations,"  he  wrote,  "  came  from 
every  direction.  I  want  more  tongues,  more 
souls,  more  bodies  for  the  Lord  Jesus."  He 
preached  on  one  tour  one  hundred  and  eighty 
sermons  in  three  months  to  hundreds  of  thou- 
sands of  hearers.  In  Edinburgh  in  four  weeks 
he  preached  to  nearly  ten  thousand  hearers 
every  day.      ' '  O  that  I  could  fly  from  pole  to 

pole    publishing  the   everlasting   Gospel !  "    he 

136 


George  Whitefield,  the  Great  Evangelist 

wrote.  "I  have  scarce  known  sometimes 
whether  I  was  in  heaven  or  on  earth." 

In  Dublin  he  was  assailed  by  a  Roman  Cath- 
olic mob.  ' '  Stones  flew  about  him  from  all  direc- 
tions," writes  Dr.  vStevens,  "and  he  reeled 
under  them  until  he  was  breathless  and  drip- 
ping with  blood.  A  few  of  his  friends  had  fol- 
lowed him,  and  now  washed  the  blood  from  his 
wounds ;  but  as  soon  as  he  revived  the  family, 
fearing  their  house  would  be  demolished,  en- 
treated him  to  leave  them.  As  it  was  perilous 
for  him  to  go  out,  a  mechanic  offered  him  his 
wig  and  cloak  as  a  disguise.  He  put  them  on  ; 
but,  ashamed  of  such  apparent  cowardice,  threw 
them  off  with  disdain,  determined  to  face  the 
populace  in  his  proper  habit.  A  Methodist 
preacher  brought  a  coach  to  the  door.  White- 
field  leaped  in  and  rode  unhurt,  and  with  what 
he  calls  '  Gospel  triumph,'  through  whole  streets 
of  Roman  Catholics,  who  threatened  him  at  every 
step  of  the  way.  None,  he  says,  but  those  who 
were  spectators  of  the  scene  could  form  an  idea 
of  the  affection  with  which  he  was  received  by 
the  weeping,  mourning,  but  now  joyful,  Meth- 
odists." 

Strange  that  so  saintly  a  man  should  be  thus 

assailed.     Yet  play  actors  caricatured   him   on 

the  boards  of    the  theater,   letters  threatening 

his  life  were  sent  him,  and  more  than  once  a 

137 


Makers  of  Methodism 

ruffian  came  into  the  pulpit  to  attack  him  with 
clinched  fists. 

Many  were  the  dangers  which  this  great 
evangelist  encountered  by  sea  and  land.  Like 
the  apostle  whom  in  his  burning  zeal  he  so 
much  resembled,  he  might  refer  to  his  journey- 
ings  often,  his  perils  in  the  city  and  in  the  wil- 
derness, to  his  weariness  and  painfulness,  his 
watchings,  his  fastings,  and  his  manifold  in- 
firmities. In  traversing  the  pathless  American 
forests  he  sometimes  could  hear  the  wolves 
"  howling  like  a  kennel  of  hounds,"  and  had  at 
night  to  keep  them  at  bay  by  blazing  fires.  He 
had  to  ford  icy  rivers,  and  once  was  nearly 
drowned  in  crossing  the  Potomac  amid  the 
rigors  of  midwinter. 

Seldom  has  such  a  burning  soul  been  taber- 
nacled in  so  frail  a  body.  The  latter  portion  of 
his  life  was  one  long  martyrdom  of  suffering. 
Once  after  preaching  he  was  so  exhausted  that 
as  he  was  laid  upon  a  bed  he  heard  the  bystand- 
ers say,  "He  is  gone."  Again  he  writes:  "  I 
was  in  all  appearance  a  dying  man,  expecting 
to  be  with  my  Maker  before  morning.  I  spoke 
with  peculiar  energy.  Such  effects  followed  the 
word  I  thought  it  worth  dying  a  thousand 
times." 

Yet  his  -zeal  burned  the  more  intensely  the 
nearer  he  drew  to  the  end  of  his  labors.     Four- 

138 


George  Whitefield,  the  Great  Evangelist 

teen  times  he  visited  Scotland  in  the  rude  and 
uncomfortable  coaches  of  the  period.  During 
the  last  of  these  visits  we  read  that  he  preached 
"generally  twice,  sometimes  thrice,  a  day,  and 
once  five  times."  When  his  health  was  at  its 
worst  his  short  allowance  of  preaching  was  once 
a  day  and  thrice  on  Sunday.  To  get  into  the 
pulpit  seemed  to  put  new  life  into  his  dying 
frame.  While  thousands  hung  upon  his  words 
he  seemed  to  soar  like  a  seraph  to  the  gate  of 
heaven,  and  to  jspeak  as  one  who  saw  the  secrets 
veiled  from  mortal  sight.  Forty-two  times  he 
crossed  the  Irish  Channel  to  preach  to  the  tur- 
bulent yet  generous-hearted  Irish  people. 
Thirteen  times  he  crossed  the  Atlantic  in  the 
crowded  and  comfortless  vessels  of  the  time, 
often  consuming  eleven  weeks  on  the  vo3'age. 
Once  his  vessel  lay  a  month  in  the  Downs  wait- 
ing for  a  favorable  wind.  He  had  prayers  and 
preaching  on  shipboard  every  day.  We  read 
of  him  after  such  a  voyage  lingering  for  three 
weeks  between  life  and  death,  but  preaching 
repeatedly,  "though  he  had  to  be  carried  like 
a  child."  From  Georgia  to  Maine  he  ranged 
through  the  forest  wilderness  of  America, preach- 
ing in  its  scattered  towns  to  eager  multitudes.  In 
Great  Britain,  from  the  mountains  of  Wales  to 
the  heathy  moors  of  Scotland,  in  crowded  cities 
and  on  barren  wolds,  his  persuasive  voice  was 

139 


Makers  of  Methodism 

heard  pleading  with  men  to  flee  from  the  wrath 
to  come. 

Often  he  preached  beneath  the  gallows  tree, 
standing  upon  the  coffin  of  the  criminal  who 
was  to  be  executed,  and,  ascending  with  him  to 
the  scaffold,  prayed  with  him  to  the  last.  At 
five  o'clock  on  a  winter's  morning  thousands 
were  drawn  without  the  city  to  listen  to  the 
story  of  Calvary  from  his  lips.  "  I  have  seen," 
writes  a  spectator,  ' '  Moorfields  as  full  of  lan- 
terns at  these  times  as  the  Haymarket  is  full  of 
flambeaux  of  an  opera  night." 

Never  were  more  disinterested  labors  than 
those  of  Whitefield.  While  raising  thousands 
of  pounds  for  charitable  objects,  he  lived  and 
died  a  poor  man.  At  one  service  he  collected 
;«^6oo  for  the  people  of  an  obscure  village  in 
Germany,  which  had  been  burned  down,  for 
which  he  received  the  thanks  of  the  Prussian 
sovereign.  He  maintained  for  years  a  house- 
hold of  over  a  hundred  orphan  children  in 
Georgia,  by  the  voluntary  contributions  of  his 
hearers,  most  of  whom  themselves  were  poor. 
He  even  sold  his  furniture  to  meet  the  expenses 
of  the  orphan  house.  He  might,  indeed,  have 
enjoyed  ease  and  leisure  if  he  would.  He  was 
offered  ;^8oo  a  year  in  Philadelphia  to  become 
a  settled  pastor   for  but  half  the  time,  leaving 

him  six  months  to  range  the  continent.     But 

140 


George  Whitefield,  the  Great  Evangelist 

he  could  brook  no  trammels  on  his  freedom  to 
go  whithersoever  the  Spirit  called  him,  and  the 
tempting  offer  was  declined. 

The  profound  humility,  the  true  lowliness  of 
spirit,  of  this  great  man  is  one  of  the  noblest 
traits  in  his  character.  He  exhorts  his  friends 
at  Savannah  to  "  pray  that  he  may  know  him- 
self to  be,  what  really  he  is,  less  than  the  least 
of  them  all."  In  the  midst  of  his  apostolic  la- 
bors he  exclaims,  "O  that  I  may  at  length 
learn  to  live !  I  am  ashamed  of  my  sloth  and 
lukewarmness,  and  long  to  be  on  the  stretch  for 
God."  Again,  near  the  close  of  his  life  of  un- 
precedented toil,  he  writes  with  undeserved 
self-upbraidings,  "  O  to  begin  to  be  a  Christian 
and  a  minister  of  Jesus." 

Notwithstanding  the  doctrinal  differences  be- 
tween himself  and  his  early  friend,  John  Wes- 
ley, he  ever  cherished  toward  him  feelings  of 
the  deepest  and  tenderest  regard.  When  a 
small-souled  bigot  asked  him  if  he  thought  he 
should  see  John  Wesley  in  heaven  he  replied, 
"  I  fear  not,  for  he  will  be  so  near  the  throne 
and  5-ou  and  I  so  far  away  that  we  shall  scarce 
be  able  to  catch  a  sight  of  him." 

In  spite  of  the  carpings  of  mole-eyed  malice 
few  men  ever  awakened  such  enthusiastic  ad- 
miration  and  warm    affection.      The    common 

people  heard  him  gladly.     Nor  were  the  higher 
10  141 


Makers  of  Methodism 

ranks  insensible  to  the  spell  of  his  eloquence. 
More  than  once  in  America  the  Legislature  and 
the  Judges'  Sessions  adjourned  in  order  to  hear 
him  preach.  Philosophers  like  Franklin  and 
Hume  esteemed  his  correspondence  with  them 
a  privilege,  and  many  titled  and  noble  persons 
deemed  themselves  honored  by  his  friendship. 

It  is  difficult  after  the  lapse  of  more  than  a 
hundred  years  since  his  death  to  fully  compre- 
hend the  secret  of  his  wonderful  eloquence  and 
of  his  spell-like  power  over  the  souls  of  men. 
If  his  delivery  were  the  product  of  art,  it  was 
certainly  the  perfection  of  art,  for  it  w^as  en- 
tirely concealed. 

While  he  was  a  great  master  of  words,  he 
studied  especially  plainness  of  speech.  His  ap- 
peals touched  every  heart  and  held  the  atten- 
tion of  every  hearer.  A  worthy  shipbuilder 
narrates  that  he  could  usually  during  a  sermon 
build  a  ship  from  stem  to  stern,  but  under  Mr. 
Whitefield  he  could  not  lay  a  single  plank. 

The  voice  of  this  *'  son  of  thunder  "  was  one 
of  rich,  musical  quality  and  of  great  strength. 
The  philosophic  Franklin  computed,  by  prac- 
tical experiment,  that  he  could  easily  be  heard 
by  thirty  thousand  persons.  Indeed,  he  often 
held  audiences  of  over  twenty  thousand  spell- 
bound by  his  eloquence.     His  dramatic  ability 

was  such  that  his  auditors  seemed  actually  to  see 

142 


George  Whitefield,  the  Great  Evangelist 

the  thinofs  which  he  described.  Once,  while 
preaching  to  an  audience  of  sailors  at  New  York, 
he  thus  portrayed  in  vivid  words  the  terrors  of  a 
shipwreck:  "Hark!  don't  you  hear  the  distant 
thunder?  Don't  you  see  those  flashes  of  light- 
ning? The  air  is  dark.  The  tempest  rages. 
Our  masts  are  gone !  What  next?"  The  un- 
suspecting tars,  as  if  struck  by  the  power  of 
magic,  arose,  and  with  united  voices  exclaimed, 
"  Take  to  the  long  boat,  sir!  "  The  celebrated 
actor,  Garrick,  was  heard  to  say  that  he  would 
give  a  hundred  guineas  if  he  could  only  say 
"O!  "  as  Mr.  Whitefield  did.  Hume,  though 
one  of  the  coldest  and  most  skeptical  of  men, 
said  it  was  worth  going  twenty  miles  to  hear 
him.  The  philosopher,  Franklin,  as  he  tells 
us,  listening  to  a  charity  sermon,  resolved  to  give 
nothing ;  but  under  the  power  of  the  preacher's 
appeals  he  "emptied  his  pocket  wholly  in  the 
collector's  plate — gold,  silver,  and  all." 

But  the  crowning  glory  of  his  preaching  was 
that  it  was  accompanied  with  the  demonstration 
of  the  Spirit  and  with  power.  Hundreds  were 
pricked  to  the  heart  and  led  to  repentance  and 
faith.  In  a  sing-le  week  he  received  a  thousand 
letters  from  persons  under  conviction  of  sin 
through  his  preaching,  and  wherever  he  labored 
he  won  scores  and  hundreds  of  trophies  of  di- 
vine grace. 

143 


Makers  of  Methodism 

A  marked  characteristic  of  Whitefield  was 
his  tenderness,  his  sympathy  for  sinners,  his 
burning  love  for  souls.  He  that  would  move 
others  must  himself  be  moved.  Hence  multi- 
tudes were  melted  into  tears  because  tears  were 
in  the  preacher's  words,  his  voice,  and  often  on 
his  cheeks.  "  You  blame  me  for  weeping,"  he 
says,  "  but  how  can  I  help  it  when  you  will 
not  weep  for  yourselves,  although  your  immor- 
tal souls  are  upon  the  verge  of  destruction?  " 

Whitefield  used  to  pray  that  he  might  die  in 
the  pulpit  or  just  after  leaving  it.  His  prayer 
was  almost  literally  granted  him.  He  died  as 
he  lived,  in  the  midst  of  labors  more  abundant 
than  those  of  almost  any  other  man.  The  last 
entry  in  his  Journal,  July  29,  1770,  is  that 
during  the  month  he  had  completed  a  five-hun- 
dred-mile circuit  in  New  England,  preaching 
and  traveling  through  the  heat  every  day. 
At  Exeter,  Mass.,  he  was  requested  to 
preach  again.  A  friend  remonstrated,  "Sir, 
you  are  more  fit  to  go  to  bed  than  to  the  pulpit." 
"  True,"  he  replied,  and  clasping  his  hands,  ex- 
claimed, "Lord  Jesus,  if  I  have  not  yet  finished 
my  course,  let  me  speak  for  thee  once  more  in 
the  fields  and  then  come  home  and  die."  As 
he  entered  the  pulpit  he  seemed  like  a  dying 
man.  Yet  for  two  hours  he  exhorted  the  peo- 
ple like  a  man  who  already  beheld  the  realities 

144 


George  Whitefield,  the  Great  Evangelist 

of  the  eternal  world.  At  this  last  service  an 
intending  persecutor,  with  a  pocketful  of  stones, 
said,  "  vSir,  I  came  to  break  your  head,  but  God 
has  broken  my  heart." 

ARer  the  sermon  he  rode  on  to  Newburyport, 
a  distance  of  fifteen  miles.  As  he  retired  to  his 
chamber  on  the  last  evening  of  his  life  so  many 
were  desirous  of  hearing  him  that  he  stood 
upon  the  stairs  with  his  candlestick  in  his  hand, 
and  addressed  them  with  much  feeling  till  the 
candle  burned  low  in  its  socket — like  the  lamp 
of  his  life  then  flickering  to  extinction. 

During  the  night  the  asthmatic  spasms,  to 
which  he  had  been  for  so  many  years  a  martyr, 
came  on  with  increased  violence.  He  was  re- 
moved to  the  open  window  to  enable  him  to 
breathe  with  less  difficulty,  but  after  an  hour's 
suffering  his  spirit  passed  away.  He  left  no 
dying  testimony  ;  but  he  had  borne  so  many  for 
God  during  his  life  that  there  was  no  need. 
His  labors  in  two  hemispheres,  the  eighteen 
thousand  sermons  that  he  preached,  his  many 
journeyings  by  sea  and  land,  his  undying  zeal 
for  the  salvation  of  souls — these  were  a  testi- 
mony which  shall  be  an  inspiration  and  a  .spell 
while  the  world  shall  last. 

He  was  buried  beneath  the  pulpit  of  the  Old 
South  Church,  Newburyport,  and  thither  pil- 
grims from  many  lands  have  come  to  pay  their 

145 


Makers  of  Methodism 

tribute  of  homage  to  the  memory  of  the  great- 
est preacher  since  the  days  of  Chrysostom.  One 
of  these  thus  describes  his  visit  to  Whitefield's 
tomb :  ' '  We  descended  to  the  vault.  There 
were  three  coffins  before  us.  Two  pastors  of  the 
church  lay  on  either  side  and  the  remains  of 
Whitefield  in  the  center.  The  cover  was  slipped 
aside,  and  they  lay  beneath  my  eye.  I  had 
stood  before  his  pulpits ;  I  had  seen  his  books, 
his  ring,  his  chairs ;  but  never  before  had  I 
looked  upon  part  of  his  very  self.  The  skull, 
which  is  perfect,  clean,  and  fair,  I  received,  as 
is  the  custom,  into  my  hands.  Thought  and 
feeling  were  busy  and  we  gave  expression  to 
the  sentiments  that  possessed  us,  by  solemn 
psalmody  and  fervent  prayer." 

The  Quaker  poet,  Whittier,  has  thus  sketched 
in  tuneful  lines  the  salient  features  in  the  life 
and  character  of  this  great  man,  and  with  the 
quotation  we  close  this  review  of  his  labors : 

"  Lo  !  by  the  Merrimack  Whitefield  stands 
In  the  temple  that  never  was  made  by  hands — 
Curtains  of  azure,  and  crystal  wall, 
And  dome  of  the  sunshine  over  all — 
A  homeless  pilgrim,  with  dubious  name 
Blown  about  on  the  winds  of  fame  : 
Now  as  an  angel  of  blessing  classed, 
And  now  a  mad  enthusiast. 
Called  in  his  youth  to  sound  and  gauge 
The  moral  lapse  of  his  race  and  age, 

146 


Gkokge  Whitefield,  the  Great  Evangelist 

And  sharp  as  truth  the  contrast  draw 
Of  human  fraihy  and  perfect  law  ; 
Possessed  by  one  dread  thought,  that  lent 
Its  goad  to  his  fiery  temperament, 
Up  and  down  the  world  he  went, 
A  John  the  Baptist,  crying.  Repent ! 

"  And  the  hearts  of  people  where  he  passed 
Swayed  as  the  reeds  sway  in  the  blast, 
Under  the  spell  of  a  voice  which  took 
In  its  compass  the  flow  of  Siloa's  Brook 
And  the  mystical  chime  of  the  bells  of  gold 
On  the  ephod's  hem  of  the  priest  of  old  ; 
Now  the  roll  of  thunder,  and  now  the  awe 
Of  the  trumpet  heard  in  the  Mount  of  Law. 

"  A  solemn  fear  on  the  listening  crowd 
Fell  like  the  shadow  of  a  cloud  ; 
The  sailor  reeling  from  out  the  ships 
Whose  masts  stood  thick  in  the  river-slips 
Felt  the  jest  and  the  curse  die  on  his  lips. 
Listened  the  fisherman  rude  and  hard ; 
The  calker  rough  from  the  builder's  yard  ; 
The  man  of  the  market  left  his  load; 
The  teamster  leaned  on  his  bending  goad  ; 
The  maiden  and  youth  beside  her  felt 
Their  hearts  in  a  closer  union  melt. 
And  saw  the  flowers  of  their  love  in  i)loom 
Down  the  endless  vistas  of  life  to  come. 
Old  age  sat  feebly  brushing  away 
From  his  ears  the  scanty  locks  of  gray, 
And  careless  boyhood,  living  the  free, 
Unconscious  life  of  bird  and  tree, 
Suddenly  wakened  to  a  sense 
Of  sin  and  its  guilty  consequence. 

147 


Makers  of  Methodism 

"  It  was  as  if  an  angel's  voice 

Called  the  listeners  up  for  their  final  choice; 

As  if  a  strong  hand  rent  apart 

The  veils  of  sense  from  soul  and  heart, 

Showing  in  light  ineffable 

The  joys  of  heaven  and  woes  of  hell : 

All  about  in  the  misty  air 

The  hills  seem  kneeling  in  silent  prayer; 

The  rustle  of  leaves,  the  moaning  sedge, 

The  water's  lap  on  its  gravtlcd  edge, 

The  wailing  pines,  and,  far  and  faint, 

The  wood-dove's  note  of  sad  complaint — 

To  the  solemn  voice  of  the  preacher  lent 

An  undertone  of  low  lament  ; 

And  the  rote  of  the  sea  from  its  sandy  coast. 

On  the  easterly  wind  now  heard,  now  lost, 

Seemed  the  murmurous  sound  of  the  judgment  host. 

"  So  the  flood  of  emotion  deep  and  strong 
Troubled  the  land  as  he  swept  along, 
But  left  a  result  of  holier  lives — 
Tenderer  mothers  and  worthier  wives  ; 
The  husband  and  father,  whose  children  fled 
And  sad  wife  wept  when  his  drunken  tread 
Frightened  peace  from  his  rooftree's  shade 
And  a  rock  of  offense  his  hearthstone  made. 
In  a  strength  that  was  not  his  own  began 
To  rise  from  the  brute's  to  the  plane  of  man; 
Old  friends  embraced,  long  held  apart 
By  evil  counsel  and  pride  of  heart ; 
And  penitence  saw  through  misty  tears. 
In  the  bow  of  hope  on  its  cloud  of  fears, 
The  promise  of  heaven's  eternal  years — 
The  peace  of  God  for  the  world's  annoy — 
Beauty  for  ashes,  and  oil  of  joy ! 

148 


Glokge  Whitefield,  the  Great  Evangelist 

"  Under  the  church  of  Federal  Street, 
Under  the  tread  of  its  Satjljutli  feet. 
Walled  about  by  its  basement  stones 
Lie  the  marvelous  preacher's  bones. 
No  saintly  honors  to  them  are  shown, 
No  sign  nor  miracle  have  they  known; 
But  he  who  passes  the  ancient  church 
Slops  m  tht:  shade  of  its  bellry  ])orch 
And  ponders  the  wonderful  life  of  him 
Who  lies  at  rest  in  that  charnel  dim. 
Long  shall  the  traveler  strain  his  eye 
!•  lom  the  railroad  car,  as  it  plunges  by, 
And  the  vanishing  town  behind  him  search 
For  the  slender  spire  of  the  Whitefield  Church  ; 
And  feel  for  one  moment  the  ghosts  of  trade 
And  fashion  and  folly  and  pleasure  laid 
l^y  the  thought  of  that  life  of  pure  intent, 
That  voice  of  w.irning,  yet  eloquent, 
Of  one  on  the  errands  of  angels  sent. 
And  if  where  he  labored  the  flood  of  sin 
Like  a  tide  from  the  hnrbor-bar  sets  in, 
And  over  a  life  of  time  and  sense 
The  church  spires  lift  their  vain  defense — 
As  if  to  scatter  the  bolts  of  God 
With  the  points  of  Calvin's  thunder-rod — 
Still,  as  the  gem  of  its  civic  crown. 
Precious  beyond  the  world's  renown, 
His  memory  hallows  the  ancient  town  !" 

149 


Makers  of  Methodism 


VIII 

Selina,  Countess  of  Huntingfdon 

The  history  of  early  Methodism,  hke  the  his- 
tory of  primitive  Christianity,  shows  that  not 
many  mighty,  not  many  noble,  were  called  to 
the  work  of  the  Gospel.  Both  won  their 
trophies  chiefly  among  God's  great  family  of 
the  poor.  But  as  there  were  those  of  Caesar's 
household  who  acknowledged  Christ,  so  there 
were  those  of  noble  rank  who  became  the  friends 
of  Methodism.  One  of  the  most  notable  of  these 
was  Selina,  Countess  of  Huntingdon. 

The  names  of  Wesley  and  Whitefield  are  in- 
separably joined  as  the  apostles  of  Methodism, 
yet  a  difference  of  opinion  on  doctrinal  grounds 
soon  led  to  a  divergence  of  operations  and  a  di- 
vision of  interests.  Whitefield  was  destined  to 
be  the  flaminof  herald  whose  mission  it  was  to 
revive  the  almost  extinct  spiritual  life  of  the 
Church  of  England  and  to  establish  that  Calvin- 
istic  Methodism  which  is  so  potent  for  good  in  the 
principality  of  Wales  to  the  present  day. 

It  was  with  this  branch  of  Methodism  that 
Lady  Huntingdon  was  connected.  CShe  was  of 
noble  birth,  the  daughter  of  the  Earl  of  Ferrers, 

150 


Selina,  Countess  of  Huntingdon 

and  was  remotely  connected  with  the  royal 
family.  In  her  early  life  she  was  married  to 
Theophilus  Hastings,  Earl  of  Huntingdon. 
Lady  Elizabeth  and  Lady  Margaret  Hastings, 
her  sisters-in-law,  had  become  interested  in  the 
Oxford  Methodists.  Through  their  influence 
and  through  severe  personal  and  family  afflic- 
tion the  countess  was  led  to  a  religious  life  and 
to  a  strong  sympathy  with  the  methods  and 
principles  of  the  evangelists,  especially  of 
Whitefleld. 

Her  husband  sent  for  Bishop  Benson  to  restore 
her  to  a  "saner  mind,"  but  the  learned  prelate 
failed  in  the  attempt.  Although  she  moved  in 
the  most  aristocratic  circles,  the  countess  was  not 
ashamed  of  the  lowly  and  despised  Methodists 
through  whom  she  had  received  such  spiritual 
benefit.  She  invited  John  Wesley  to  her  resi- 
dence at  Downington  Park,  where  he  preached 
to  fashionable  comjreo-ations  the  same  imcom- 
promising  Gospel  that  he  declared  at  Gwennap 
Pit  or  Moorfields  Common.  With  a  wise  pre- 
vision of  one  of  the  greatest  evangelistic  agencies 
of  the  age,  she  specially  encouraged  the  employ- 
ment of  a  lay  ministry,  against  the  strong  preju- 
dices of  the  Wesleys.^ 

When  Wesley's  first  Conference  was  held  in 
London,  in  1744,  the  entire  body  was  entertained 
at  her  elegant  mansion  at  Chelsea.     She  used  her 

151 


Makers  of  Methodism 

social  influence  in  high  places  with  much  effect  on 
behalf  of  brave  John  Nelson,  who  had  been  im- 
pressed into  the  army  and  suffered  bonds  and 
imprisonment  for  conscience'  sake.  He  was 
rescued  from  his  perseciitors  and  set  free  to 
range  the  kingdom,  proclaiming  every  where  the 
great  salvation. 

In  1748  Lady  Huntingdon  became  a  widow. 
Henceforth  her  life  was  devoted  to  the  promo- 
tion of  Christ's  kingdom.  Whitefield  became 
one  of  her  permanent  chaplains,  and  the  trem- 
bling plumes  on  the  heads  of  the  court  dames  in 
the  elegant  salons  of  the  mansion  at  Chelsea, 
no  less  than  the  tear-washed  furrows  on  the 
grimy  faces  of  the  Cornish  miners,  attested 
the  power  of  his  message.  High-born  and  titled 
hearers  were  brought  under  the  influence  of  the 
simple  Gospel  story,  and  not  infrequently  with 
saving  and  sanctifying  results.  Lord  St.  John 
became  a  convert  from  the  fashionable  skepti- 
cism of  the  times  to  the  faith  of  Christ.  His 
brother,  the  witty  Bolingbroke,  complimented 
the  preacher,  but  despised  his  message.  The 
wife  of  Lord  Chesterfield  and  her  sister,  the 
Countess  of  Delitz,  received  the  Gospel  and  died 
in  the  triumphs  of  faith.  Many  "  elect  ladies  " 
of  the  highest  rank  became  devout  Christians, 
adorning  with   their  holy  and  useful  lives  the 

doctrines  of  the  Lord  Jesus. 

152 


Sklina,  Countess  of  Huntingdon 

Many  of  Whitefield's  courtly  hearers  were 
doubtless  attracted  by  the  fashionable  character 
of  the  assemblage,  as  they  would  be  to  the 
opera.  Others  were  fascinated  by  the  eloquence 
of  the  preacher,  as  they  would  be  by  the  skill 
of  an  actor.  The  skeptical  Hume,  for  instance, 
said  that  he  would  go  twenty  miles  to  hear  him  ; 
and  Garrick,  the  actor,  who  doubtless  took  les- 
sons in  style  from  his  matchless  elocution,  de- 
clared that  he  could  make  one  weep  by  the  way 
in  which  he  pronounced  the  word  Mesopotamia. 

Chesterfield  paid  him  courtly  compliments, 
and  Horace  Walpole  employed  his  keen  wit 
upon  the  earnest  preacher  whose  solemn  mes- 
sages they  both  neglected  and  despised.  The  no- 
torious Countess  of  Suffolk,  the  fair  and  frail 
favorite  of  George  II,  procured  admission  to  one 
of  the  fashionable  religious  services.  Mr.  White- 
field's  burning  denunciations  of  sin,  which  probed 
her  guilty  conscience  to  the  quick,  were  an  un- 
wonted and  unwelcome  experience  to  the  proud 
court  beauty.  wShe  flew  into  a  violent  passion, 
abused  the  countess  to  her  face,  and  declared 
that  she  had  been  deliberately  insulted.  Deeply 
mortified,  she  went  her  way  and  returned  no 
more. 

Nor  was  the  zeal  of  the  high-born  and  pious 
lady  whose  life  and  character  are  the  subject  of 
our  present  study  restrained   to  mere   passive 

153 


Makers  of  Methodism 

patronage  of  those  zealous  evangelists — a  sort 
of  dilettante  piety  that  cost  her  little.  She  proved 
her  sincerity  by  her  self-sacrifice  and  by  her 
generous  donations  to  the  cause  of  God.  She 
curtailed  her  expenditure  and  reduced  her  do- 
mestic establishment  that  she  might  build  chap- 
els for  the  poor.  She  gave  up  her  liveried 
servants  and  carriage  and  sold  her  jewels  that 
she  might  have  money  for  charitable  purposes. 
In  London,  Bristol,  and  Dublin  she  purchased 
public  halls  and  theaters  and  renovated  dilapi- 
dated chapels  that  the  Cyospel  might  be  preached 
to  the  untaught  masses.  Many  new  chapels 
were  also  erected  by  her  liberal  aid  in  England, 
Ireland,  and  especially  in  the  principality  of 
Wales.  In  these  philanthropic  labors  she  ex- 
pended not  less  than  half  a  million  of  dollars — a 
sum  relatively  much  larger  then  than  now. 

The  practical  heathenism  of  a  large  portion 
of  Great  Britain,  notwithstanding  the  vast  or- 
ganization and  immense  revenues  of  the  Estab- 
lished Church,  appealed  strongly  to  her  Chris- 
tian sympathy.  She  devised  a  plan  for  the 
evangelization  of  the  kingdom.  With  a  shrewd 
practical  method  she  divided  all  England  into 
six  districts,  to  be  systematically  visited  by 
traveling  "  canvassers,"  as  she  called  them,  who 
were   zealously  to  preach  the   Gospel  in  every 

village,  town,  and  hamlet  in  the  country.   With 

154 


Selina,  Countess  of  Huntingdon 

her  were  associated  in  these  pious  labors  some 
of  the  most  learned  and  devout  evangelical  cler- 
gymen and  dissenting  ministers  in  the  kingdom, 
such  as  Venn,  Madan,  Shirley,  Romaine,  Top- 
lady,  Dr.  Conyers,  Berridge,  Howel  Harris, 
Fletcher,  Benson,  Whitefield,  the  Wesleys,  and 
man 3^  others. 

With  certain  like-minded  noble  ladies  she 
made  tours  through  many  parts  of  England  and 
Wales,  accompanied  by  eminent  evangelists, 
who  everywhere  preached  the  Gospel  to  atten- 
tive multitudes.  Where  they  had  opportunity 
they  preached  in  the  parish  churches  or  in  Wes- 
leyan  or  dissenting  chapels;  indeed,  some  of 
the  evangelists  were  parish  clergymen  and  had 
churches  of  their  own.  But  frequently  the 
churches  were  closed  against  the  itinerants ;  in 
which  cases  they  preached  in  the  churchyards, 
on  the  highways,  or  in  the  fields.  Under  the 
burning  words  of  Whitefield  all  Yorkshire  and 
the  neighboring  counties  were  kindled  to  a 
flame;  then,  pressing  on  to  Scotland  or  over 
sea  to  America,  he  left  to  his  fellow-workers  the 
task  of  organizing  into  churches  the  multitudes 
of  converts  quickened  into  spiritual  life  by  his 
apostolic  labors.  In  this  good  work  the  Countess 
of  Huntingdon  and  the  elect  ladies  who  jour- 
neyed with  her  took  a  profound  interest,  yet  she 
never  transcended  what  was  deemed  the  bounds 

155 


Makers  of  Methodism 

of  decorum  for  her  sex  by  taking  any  part  in 
the  public  assemblies.  While  the  countess 
counseled  the  converts  privately  and  assisted 
the  evangelists  in  planning  their  labors,  she  was 
only  a  quiet  hearer  at  the  public  preaching. 

The  record  of  a  grand  "  field  day  "  on  one  of 
those  preaching  excursions  is  preserved.  It  was 
at  Cheltenham,  in  Gloucestershire.  The  use  of 
the  parish  church  was  refused  for  preaching, 
but  Whitefield  mounted  a  tombstone  in  the 
churchyard  and  addressed  the  assembled  thou- 
sands from  the  words,  "Ho!  everyone  that 
thirsteth,  come  ye  to  the  waters."  Many  of  the 
hearers  fell  prostrate  on  the  graves,  others  sobbed 
aloud,  and  all  seemed  stricken  with  a  solemn  awe. 
"  Whitefield's  words  of  exhortation,"  says  Venn, 
"cut  like  a  sword."  ' '  A  remarkable  power  from 
on  high,"  wrote  the  countess,  "accompanied 
the  message,  and  many  felt  the  arrows  of  dis- 
tress." 

Though  excluded  from  the  parish  church,  the 
Methodist  evangelists  were  not  unbefriended. 
A  nobleman  of  the  highest  rank,  the  friend  of 
his  sovereign,  a  member  of  the  Privy  Council 
and  Secretary  of  State — the  Earl  of  Dartmouth — 
stood  by  their  sides  among  the  graves,  and 
opened  his  hospitable  mansion  for  their  recep- 
tion.    That  night  Whitefield  administered  the 

sacrament  in  his  house,  and  the  next  day,  stand- 

156 


Selina,  Countess  of  Huntingdon 

ing  on  a  table  beside  the  door,  preached  to  the 
multitude  that  filled  the  rooms  within  and 
thronged  the  grounds  without. 

It  was  this  Lord  Dartmouth  to  whom  Cowper 
refers  in  the  lines : 

"We  boast  some  rich  ones  whom  the  Gospel  sways, 
And  one  who  wears  a  coronet  and  prays." 

His  name  is  commemorated  in  America  by  Dart- 
mouth College,  of  which  institution  he  was  a 
patron.  "They  call  my  Lord  Dartmouth  an 
enthusiast,"  said  George  HI,  who  always  had  a 
profound  respect  for  religion,  "but  surely  he 
says  nothing  but  what  any  Christian  may  and 
ought  to  say."  >» 

Through  the  influence  of  Lady  Huntingdon 
the  friendship  of  the  Wesleys  and  Whitefield 
became  firmly  cemented.  These  once  estranged 
but  now  reconciled  friends,  unable  to  agree  in 
doctrinal  opinion,  wisely  agreed  to  differ,  but 
kept  up  to  the  close  of  their  lives  a  kindly  inter- 
change of  Christian  courtesies.  They  formed 
with  each  other  and  with  the  countess — their 
common  friend  and  the  peacemaker  between 
them — a  sort  of  formal  "  quadruple  alliance,"  as 
Charles  Wesley  called  it,  whereby  they  agreed 
to  cooperate  in  their  common  work  and  to  knit 
more   firmly  the  bonds  of  Christian  fellowship 

between  them. 

11  157 


Makers  of  Methodism 

For  John  Wesley's  genius  for  organization 
Lady  Huntingdon  had  a  profound  regard.  In 
this  respect  he  was  much  superior  to  his  more 
eloquent  colleague,  Whitefield.  Indeed,  the 
greatest  historian  of  modern  times  has  bestowed 
on  him  the  eulogy  of  having  had  ' '  a  genius  for 
government  not  inferior  to  that  of  Richelieu."* 
The  permanent  and  widespread  organization  of 
Arminian  Methodism,  as  contrasted  with  the 
comparatively  evanescent  results  of  Whitefield's 
labors,  is  largely  the  result  of  Wesley's  superior 
gifts  of  ecclesiastical  legislation. 

Far  more  than  Whitefield  did  Lady  Hunting- 
don possess  this  qualification,  and  had  she  been 
a  man,  the  history  and  present  status  of  Calvin - 
istic  Methodism  might  have  been  very  differ- 
ent. She  was  deeply  convinced  of  the  need  of  a 
college  for  the  training  of  ministers  for  the  nu- 
merous chapels  which,  through  her  zeal  and  lib- 
erality, had  sprung  up  in  many  parts  of  the 
country.  She  broached  her  scheme  to  John 
Wesley  and  others  and  received  their  hearty 
approval.  A  romantic  and  dilapidated  old 
castle  at  Trevecca,  in  Wales,  was  accordingly 
purchased  and  fitted  up  as  a  place  of  residence 
and  instruction  for  candidates  for  the  ministry. 
This  enterprise  exhausted  her  means,  but  she 
was  assisted  by  contributions  from  titled  and 

*Macaulay,  Review  of  Sotithey  s  Colloquies. 
158 


Selina,  Countess  of  Huntingdon 

wealthy  ladies  who  sympathized  with  her 
project. 

The  saintly  and  accomplished  Fletcher  be- 
came the  first  president,  and  the  learned  Wes- 
leyan  commentator,  Joseph  Benson,  its  head 
master.  The  first  student  was  a  poor  collier, 
who  subsequently  became  an  able  and  useful 
vicar  in  the  Established  Church.  The  ancient 
cloisters  were  soon  thronged  with  earnest  stu- 
dents. No  conditions  of  admission  were  im- 
posed other  than  conversion  to  God  and  a  pur- 
pose to  enter  the  Christian  ministry,  either  in 
the  Established  Church  or  in  any  dissenting 
body.  In  this  truly  catholic  institution  the  stu- 
dents received  lodging,  maintenance,  instruc- 
tion, and  an  annual  suit  of  clothes,  at  the 
expense  of  the  countess. 

The  first  anniversary  of  the  college  was  cele- 
brated as  a  religious  festival  of  holy  rejoicing. 
For  nearly  a  week  previously  the  scattered  evan- 
gelists of  the  "  Connection"  continued  to  arrive 
in  the  courtyard  of  the  picturesque  old  castle. 
Very  different  was  the  scene  from  those  of  tilt 
and  tourney  with  which  it  had  resounded  in  the 
days  of  knightly  chivalry.  Hymns  and  prayers 
and  sermons  in  English  and  Welsh  echoed  be- 
neath the  ancient  arches.  On  the  great  day  of 
the  feast  Wesley  and  Fletcher,  Shirley  and 
Howel  Harris,  Arminian  and  Calvinist,  English 

159 


Makers  of  Methodism 

and  Welsh,  preached  and  prayed  and  adminis- 
tered the  sacrament  and  celebrated  the  ' '  love 
feast "  together,  all  differences  being-  forgotten 
in  their  common  brotherhood  in  Christ.  The 
ministers  all  dined  together  with  Lady  Hunting- 
don, while  great  baskets  of  bread  and  meat  were 
distributed  to  the  multitude  in  the  courtyard. 
Thus  they  all  kept  high  festival  with  gladness 
of  heart  before  the  Lord. 

Still  it  was  not  then  the  purpose  of  either  Wes- 
ley or  Whitefield  or  Lady  Huntingdon  to  estab- 
lish a  new  sect.  They  were  all  attached  members 
of  the  Church  of  England.  Not  till  they  were 
thrust  forth  from  its  embrace  did  they  organize 
separate  societies.  In  order  to  protect  her  nu- 
merous chapels  from  suppression  or  appropria- 
tion by  the  Established  Church  Lady  Hunting- 
don was  obliged  to  take  advantage  of  the  Act  of 
Toleration,  and  thus  convert  her  "Connection" 
into  a  dissenting  community.  The  clergymen 
of  the  Establishment,  who  had  hitherto  been  her 
most  influential  allies,  now  withdrew  their  aid, 
and  preached  no  more  in  her  chapels. 

The  countess,  not  content  with  the  success  of 
her  evangelistic  plans  in  Great  Britain,  resolved 
to  extend  her  efforts  to  the  New  World.  White- 
field  died  in  1769.  The  support  of  the  orphan- 
age and  of  the  mission  work  in  Georgia,  objects 

of  his  deepest  solicitude,  became  the  cherished 

160 


Selina,  Countess  of  Huntingdon 

purpose  of  the  Countess  of  Huntingdon.  She 
resolved  to  send  a  principal  and  pastor  to  the 
orphanage,  and  a  band  of  missionaries  to  labor 
among  the  colonists  and  blacks. 

Before  they  sailed  the  missionaries  preached 
daily  to  immense  audiences  in  Whitefield's  Tab- 
ernacle and  in  the  open  air  on  Tower  Hill.  At 
length,  amid  many  prayers,  not  unmingled  with 
the  tears  of  thousands  of  spectators,  the  "  des- 
tined vessel,  richly  freighted,"  sailed  on  its 
voyage.  The  missionaries  had  great  success, 
especially  among  the  colored  people,  and  it 
seemed  probable  that  Calvinistic  Methodism 
would  become  the  predominant  type  of  religious 
belief  throughout  the  Southern  colonies  of  North 
America. 

But  Providence  had  willed  otherwise.  The 
orphanage  was  destroyed  by  fire.  The  Revolu- 
tionary War  entirely  disconcerted  the  plans  of 
the  countess.  Most  of  the  missionaries  returned 
to  Great  Britain.  The  countess  had  acquired 
large  estates  in  Georgia,  which  she  held  for 
missionary  purposes.  She  corresponded  with 
Washington  for  their  recovery,  and  Benjamin 
Franklin  acted  as  one  of  her  trustees,  but  the 
disturbances  caused  by  the  prolonged  war  and 
severance  of  the  colonies  from  the  mother 
country  prevented  the  restoration  of  her  estates. 

Full  of  years,  as  full  of  honors,  like  a  ripe 

i6i 


Makers  of  Methodism 

sheaf  waiting  to  be  gathered  home,  the  Count- 
ess of  Huntingdon  drew  near  her  end.  Earthly- 
distinctions  had  been  hers,  worldly  wealth  and 
troops  of  friends.  But  as  she  bent  beneath  the 
weight  of  four  and  eighty  years,  and  faced  the 
mysteries  of  the  spirit  world,  what  was  the 
ground  of  her  confidence  and  hope?  Simply 
her  humble  trust  in  the  atonement  of  her  Re- 
deemer. As  the  outward  body  failed  the  in- 
ward spirit  was  renewed  day  by  day. 

Amid  the  sufferings  of  a  lingering  and  pain- 
ful sickness  she  exclaimed :  "I  am  well ;  all  is 
well — well  forever.  I  see  wherever  I  turn  my 
eyes,  whether  I  live  or  die,  nothing  but  victory. 
The  coming  of  the  Lord  draweth  nigh !  The 
thought  fills  my  soul  with  joy  unspeakable — my 
soul  is  filled  with  glory.  I  am  as  in  the  element 
of  heaven  itself.  I  am  encircled  in  the  arms  of 
love  and  mercy ;  I  long  to  be  at  home ;  O,  I 
long  to  be  at  home!  "  Almost  with  her  dying 
breath  she  exultingly  declared,  "My  work  is 
done ;  I  have  nothing  to  do  but  to  go  to  my 
Father." 

"  Servant  of  God,  well  done! 

Rest  from  thy  loved  employ; 
The  battle's  fought,  the  victory's  won  ; 
Enter  thy  Master's  joy." 

The    very   year  that  this  aged   saint  passed 

away — 1791 — John  Wesley  also  died.     Thus  de- 

162 


Selina,  Countess  of  Huntingdon 

parted  from  the  toils  of  earth  to  the  everlasting 
reward  of  heaven  two  of  the  most  remarkable 
spirits  of  the  eighteenth  century,  who  more, 
we  think,  than  any  others  left  their  impress  on 
the  age. 

One  of  the  most  striking  proofs  of  the  moral 
and  intellectual  superiority  of  the  Countess  of 
Huntingdon  was  the  influence  that  she  exerted 
during  a  long  series  of  years  over  many  of  the 
most  eminent  men  of  the  time.  Her  private 
character  was  one  of  great  simplicity  and  beauty. 
Says  one  who  knew  her  well,  "In  conversing 
with  her  you  forgot  the  earldom  in  her  exhibi- 
tion of  humble,  loving  piety."  She  sometimes 
asserted  her  woman's  prerogative  in  her  tenacity 
of  opinion  and  of  purpose,  but  her  opinions 
were  the  result  of  conscientious  conviction  and 
her  purposes  were  purely  unselfish.  Her  contri- 
butions to  the  needy  were  liberal  to  excess,  so 
much  so  as  often  to  leave  herself  embarrassed. 
At  her  death  she  left  twenty  thousand  dollars 
to  the  poor.  The  residue  of  her  large  fortune 
was  left  for  the  endowment  of  sixty-four  chapels, 
which  had  been  erected  chiefly  through  her 
efforts  in  different  parts  of  the  kingdom. 

In  the  principality  of  Wales  the  influence  of 
the  Calvinistic  Methodism  of  "  Lady  Hunting- 
don's Connection  "  has  been  the  most  strongly 

felt.     Largely  as  the  result  of  the  stimulus  that 

163 


Makers  of  Methodism 

it  imparted,  the  thirty  dissenting  chapels  of  1 7 1 5 

have  increased  to  twenty-three  hundred,  so  that 

' '  a  chapel  now  dots  nearly  every  three  square 

miles  of  the  country,   and  a  million  people — 

nearly  the  whole  Welsh  population — are  found 

attending  public  worship  some  part    of   every 

Sabbath." 

164 


John  Fletcher  and  Makv  Bosanquet 


IX 

John  Fletcher  and  Mary  Bosanquet 

The  picturesque  shores  of  the  Lake  of  Geneva 
have  many  religious  and  literary  associations. 
Calvin  and  Zwingle,  Voltaire  and  Rosseau, 
Madame  de  Stael  and  Madame  Recamier,  Gib- 
bon and  Byron,  have  given  its  terraced  slopes 
and  vine-clad  hills  a  perpetual  interest.  At 
Nyon,  the  refuge  of  the  persecuted  Vaudois, 
beneath  the  shadow  of  its  ivy-mantled  castle, 
whose  massy  walls  ten  feet  thick  bear  witness 
to  the  feudal  tenure  of  the  twelfth  century, 
was  born  one  of  the  most  noteworthy  of  the 
Makers  of  Methodism.  He  was  of  an  ancient 
family,  allied  to  the  princely  house  of  Savoy. 
The  comfortable  mansion,  conspicuous  amid 
the  humbler  houses  of  the  village,  is  still  occu- 
pied by  the  descendant  Flecheres,  who  continue 
to  maintain  the  name  and  religious  reputation 
of  the  family. 

Here  Jean  Guillaume  de  la  Flechere,  or  John 
William  Fletcher,  as  we  would  say,  was  born  in 
1729.  He  was  designated  by  his  pious  Protes- 
tant parents  for  the  ministry  of  the  Reformed 

Church.      He,  therefore,  received  at  the  Univer- 

165 


Makers  of  Methodism 

sity  of  Geneva  a  thorough  education  in  the 
classical  and  oriental  languages  and  in  philoso- 
phy. His  scholarship  made  him  the  pride  of 
the  university,  and  he  carried  off  most  of  its 
prizes.  He  could  not,  however,  accept  the 
Calvinistic  doctrines  of  the  Genevan  Church. 
He  therefore  declined  to  enter  its  ministry. 

Like  many  of  the  Swiss,  he  adopted  a  military 
life,  and  sought  service  with  a  foreign  govern- 
ment. The  young  soldier  of  fortune  first  offered 
his  sword  to  Portugal,  and  received  a  captain's 
commission  in  the  service  of  that  country,  with 
orders  to  join  an  expedition  for  Brazil.  He 
was,  however,  by  accident,  or  rather,  let  us 
say,  by  an  all- wise  Providence,  prevented  from 
sailing.  A  servant,  on  the  very  morning  of  his 
intended  embarkation,  spilled  a  kettle  of  boiling 
water  on  his  legs.  This  confined  him  for  some 
time  to  bed.  The  vessel  in  which  he  was  to  sail 
was  lost  at  sea. 

On  the  invitation  of  an  uncle,  who  promised 
to  secure  a  commission  for  him,  he  went  to 
Flanders.  But  the  death  of  his  relative  and  the 
termination  of  the  war  again  disappointed  his 
hopes. 

He  now  turned,  as  did  many  of  his  country- 
men, to  London,  the  great  world-metropolis. 
His  knowledge  of  ancient  and  modern  languages 

well  fitted  him  for  the  office  of  tutor,  which  posi- 

i66 


John  Fletcher  and  Mary  Bosanquet 

tion  he  accepted.  In  London,  his  curiosity  be- 
ing aroused  by  a  casual  conversation,  he  went 
to  hear  the  Methodists.  The  doctrine  of  con- 
version and  of  the  full  assurance  of  faith  came 
like  a  revelation  to  his  soul.  "  Is  it  possible," 
he  wrote,  "that  I  who  have  always  been  ac- 
counted so  religious,  who  have  made  divinity 
my  study  and  received  the  premium  for  piety 
from  my  university  for  writings  on  divine  sub- 
jects— is  it  possible  that  I  should  be  so  ignorant 
as  not  to  know  what  faith  is?  "  For  months  he 
was  the  subject  of  intense  convictions  of  sin 
and  deep  searchings  of  heart.  Indeed,  it  was 
not  till  after  two  years  of  mental  struggle 
that  he  was  able  to  exercise  that  faith  that 
saveth  the  soul. 

At  the  urgent  solicitation  of  John  Wesley  he 
accepted  orders  in  the  Established  Church  in 
his  twenty-eighth  year.  No  man  ever  adorned 
the  doctrines  of  the  Lord  Jesus  with  more  saintly 
walk  and  conversation  and  more  utter  consecra- 
tion of  soul.  He  continued  for  some  time  in 
London,  assisting  John  Wesley,  laboring  among 
the  poor  in  the  prisons  and  among  the  rich  in 
Lady  Huntingdon's  mansion.  He  was  offered 
a  living  at  Dunham,  which  presented  many  of 
the  coveted  advantages  of  a  rural  rectory. 
"The    parish  was    small,   its    labor   light,   the 

income  good,  being  four  hundred  pounds."    But 

167 


Makers  of  Methodism 

the  zealous  evangelist  declined  the  offer,  as 
affording  too  much  money  for  too  little  work. 
He  therefore  accepted,  instead  of  the  learned 
leisure  of  Dunham,  the  strenuous  toil  and 
meager  income  of  Madeley. 

This  was  an  obscure  parish  in  a  densely 
peopled  mining  and  manufacturing  neighbor- 
hood. It  shared  the  moral  degradation  only 
too  common  in  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth 
century ;  but  his  tireless  zeal  and  Christian  de- 
votion wrought  a  moral  transformation  through- 
out the  entire  region.  The  vicarage  of  Madeley 
became  second  in  historic  interest,  throughout 
the  Protestant  world,  only  to  the  rectory  of 
Epworth,  in  which  Methodism  was  born.  The 
people  of  the  parish  were  dull  and  apathetic, 
devoted  to  the  coarse  amusements  of  badger- 
baiting  and  prize  fighting,  but  Fletcher  with 
apostolic  fervor  proclaimed  the  truths  of  the 
Gospel,  "warning  every  man,  and  teaching 
every  man  in  all  wisdom  "  from  house  to  house 
daily. 

For  months  he  went  about  the  village  at  five 
o'clock  on  Sunday  morning  ringing  a  hand  bell, 
that  no  one  might  be  able  to  excuse  his  neglect 
of  public  worship  on  the  ground  of  not  being 
awakened  in  time.  "Now  he  appeared  sud- 
denly at  vulgar  entertainments,"  says  Dr.  Schaff, 

' '  and  with  Knoxlike  earnestness    preached   to 

i68 


John  Fletcher  and  Mary  Rosanquet 

the  astounded  revelers  upon  the  folly  of  for- 
bidden pleasure."  "Those  sinners,"  says  John 
Wesley,  ' '  that  tried  to  hide  themselves  from 
him  he  pursued  to  every  corner  of  his  parish  by 
all  sorts  of  means,  public  and  private,  early 
and  late." 

This  moral  earnestness  provoked  opposition 
and  persecution.  While  many  were  reclaimed 
from  their  evil  lives,  the  more  vicious  were 
exasperated  to  greater  violence.  A  bull-bait 
was  attempted  on  one  occasion  near  the  spot 
where  he  had  announced  a  public  service,  and 
a  part  of  the  rabble  was  appointed  to  "  bait  the 
parson ;  to  pull  him  from  his  horse,  and  to 
set  the  dogs  on  him."  He  escaped  only  by  a 
providential  detention  at  the  funeral  of  a  pa- 
rishioner. 

"  His  preaching  against  drunkenness,"  says 

Dr.  Abel  Stevens,  whose  narrative  we  abridge, 

"aroused  all  the  maltmen  and  publicans  of  the 

town    against    him.     A   magistrate    threatened 

him  with  his  cane  and  with  imprisonment,  and 

many  of    the   neighboring   gentry  and    clergy 

joined    his    persecutors.     A   clergyman    posted 

on  the  church  door  a  paper  charging  him  with 

schism  and  rebellion.     Some  of  his  friends  were 

arrested.     He    was,    in    fine,    subjected   to   the 

usual  treatment  of  the  Methodist  clergy  of  the 

times,  and  he  labored  with  their  usual  zeal  and 

169 


Makers  of  Methodism 

success.  With  incessant  preaching  he  com- 
bined the  most  diligent  pastoral  labors.  He 
went  from  house  to  house,  sympathizing  with 
the  afflicted,  helping  the  poor,  ministering  to 
the  sick,  and  admonishing  the  vicious. 

"  His  liberality  to  the  poor  is  said  by  his 
successor  in  the  parish  to  have  been  scarcely 
credible.  He  led  a  life  of  severe  abstinence 
that  he  might  feed  the  hungry ;  he  clothed  him- 
self in  cheap  attire  that  he  might  clothe  the 
naked;  he  sometimes  unfurnished  his  house 
that  he  might  supply  suffering  families  with 
necessary  articles.  Thus  devoted  to  his  holy 
office,  he  soon  changed  the  tide  of  opposition 
which  had  raged  against  him,  and  won  the 
reverence  and  admiration  of  his  people;  and 
many  looked  upon  their  homes  as  consecrated 
by  his  visits." 

Although  of  foreign  birth  and  training,  he 
preached  in  English  wath  marvelous  power, 
and,  in  the  opinion  of  John  Wesley,  if  he  had 
but  physical  strength,  he  would  have  been  the 
most  eloquent  preacher  in  England. 

"His  devout  habit  of  mind,"  continues  Dr. 
Stevens,  "quickly  matured  into  saintliness  it- 
self. We  look  in  vain  through  the  records  of 
Roman  or  Protestant  piety  for  a  more  perfect 
example  of  the  consecration  of  the  whole  life, 

inward  and  outward.     For  a  time  he  erred  by 

170 


John  Fletcher  and  Mary  Bosanquet 

his  asceticism,  living  on  vegetables  and  bread, 
and  devoting  two  whole  nights  each  week  to 
meditation  and  prayer,  errors  which  he  after- 
ward acknowledged.  He  received  Wesley's 
doctrine  of  perfection,  and  not  only  wrote  in 
its  defense,  but  exemplihed  it  through  a  life  of 
purity,  charity,  and  labor  which  was  as  fault- 
less, perhaps,  as  was  ever  lived  by  mortal  man. 
Even  in  theological  controversy  his  spirit  was 
never  impeachable."  "  Sir,  he  was  a  luminary," 
said  Venn  to  a  brother  clergyman.  "A  lumi- 
nary did  I  say?  He  was  a  i-//;/."  "I  have 
known,"  he  added,  "all  the  great  men  of 
these  fifty  years,  but  I  have  known  none  like 
him." 

In  1/68  Fletcher  was  invited  to  become  presi- 
dent of  Lady  Huntingdon's  college  for  the 
ministerial  training  of  young  men  at  Trevecca, 
in  Wales.  He  accepted  the  position,  but  did 
not  leave  his  parish.  ' '  His  frequent  visits  to  the 
college  were  received,"  writes  its  head  master, 
Benson,  the  Methodist  commentator,  "like  those 
of  an  angel  of  God." 

The  fascination  exercised  by  this  saintly  soul 

is  reflected  in  the  enthusiastic  language  of  this 

generally    cool    and    scholarly    writer.      "The 

reader,"  he  says,  "  will  pardon  me  if  he  thinks 

I    exceed ;     my   heart    kindles   while    I    write. 

Here  it   was  I  saw,   shall    I    say   an  angel  in 

171 


Makers  of  Methodism 

human  flesh?  I  should  not  far  exceed  the  truth 
if  I  said  so.  But  here  I  saw  a  descendant  of 
fallen  Adam  so  fully  raised  above  the  ruins  of 
the  fall  that,  though  by  the  body  he  was  tied 
down  to  earth,  yet  was  his  whole  conversation 
in  heaven ;  yet  was  his  life  from  day  to  day  hid 
with  Christ  in  God.  Prayer,  praise,  love,  and 
zeal,  all-ardent,  elevated  above  what  one  would 
think  attainable  in  this  state  of  frailty,  were  the 
elements  in  which  he  continually  lived.  Lan- 
guages, arts,  sciences,  grammar,  rhetoric,  logic, 
even  divinity  itself,  as  it  is  called,  were  all  laid 
aside  when  he  appeared  in  the  schoolroom 
among  the  students.  And  they  seldom  heark- 
ened long  before  they  were  all  in  tears,  and 
every  heart  caught  fire  from  the  flame  that 
burned  in  his  soul!" 

Closing  his  addresses  he  would  say,  ' '  As  many 
of  you  as  are  athirst  for  the  fullness  of  the  Spirit 
of  God  follow  me  into  my  room."  Many  usually 
hastened  thither,  and  it  was  like  going  into  the 
holiest  of  holies.  Two  or  three  hours  were 
spent  there  in  such  prevailing  prayer  as  seemed 
to  bring  heaven  down  to  earth.  "Indeed," 
says  Benson,  "  I  frequently  thought,  while  at- 
tending to  his  heavenly  discourse  and  divine 
spirit,  that  he  was  so  different  from  and  su- 
perior to  the  generality  of  mankind  as  to  look 

more  like  Moses  or  Elijah,  or  some  prophet  or 

172 


John  Fletcher  and  Marv  Bosanquet 

apostle  come  again  from  the  dead,  than  a  mortal 
man  dwelling  in  a  house  of  clay  I  " 

In  the  judgment  of  Southey,  * '  No  age  or  coun- 
try has  ever  produced  a  man  of  more  enlivened 
piety  or  more  perfect  charity.  No  age  has  ever 
possessed  a  more  apostolic  minister."  He  was 
John  Wesley's  most  faithful  friend  and  fellow- 
helper,  and  was  his  choice  as  his  personal  suc- 
cessor. But  this  responsibility  he  modestly 
declined,  and  himself  passed  away  before  the 
death  of  the  founder  of  Methodism. 
"  The  Trevecca  College  was  entirely  under  the 
influence  of  Lady  Huntingdon's  Connection — the 
Calvinistic  Methodists.  Its  growing  divergence 
from  Arminian  doctrine  led  to  Fletcher's  resig- 
nation of  the  presidency,  but  without  interrup- 
tion of  kind  and  Christian  relations. 

An  unhappy  controversy,  characterized  by 
only  too  much  bitterness  and  theological  rancor, 
now  arose  between  the  Wesleyan  and  Calvinistic 
Methodists.  An  exception  must  be  made,  how- 
ever, in  the  case  of  Fletcher's  famous  Checks 
to  Antinomianism.  Never  has  theological  dis- 
cussion been  conducted  in  a  more  saintly  spirit 
and  with  more  Christian  courtesy.  ' '  His  contro- 
versial pamphlets,"  says  Dr.  Stevens,  "  may  be 
read  by  devout  men  even  as  aids  to  devotion ; 
they  are  severe  only  in  the  keenness  of  their 
arguments;  they  glow  with  a  continuous  but 
12  173 


Makers  of  Methodism 

unobstrusive  strain  of  Christian  exhortation. 
The  argument  alternates  with  pleas  for  peace, 
and  with  directions  '  how  to  secure  the  blessings 
of  peace  and  brotherly  love.'  They  are  read 
more  to-day,"  he  continues,  "  than  they  were 
during  the  excitement  of  the  controversy.  They 
control  the  opinions  of  the  largest  and  most 
effective  body  of  evangelical  clergymen  on  the 
earth." 

"His  style, "  says  a  competent  critic,  ' '  is  clear, 
forcible,  and  sometimes  ornate.  He  discusses 
the  highest  problems — as  theories  of  the  free- 
dom of  the  will,  prescience,  and  fatalism- — in  a 
manner  wdiich  interests  the  ordinary  reader,  and 
the  spiritual  argument  is  cogent  and  thorough. 
No  writer  has  so  fairly  balanced  and  reconciled 
the  apparently  opposite  passages  of  Scripture." 

Fletcher  not  only  stated  the  position  of  his 
opponent  with  fairness  and  candor,  but  in  the 
case  of  Dr.  Berridge  proffered  to  print  a  reply 
with  his  own  pamphlet  and  circulate  it  gratu- 
itously, "  to  show  that  they  made  a  loving  war." 

Fletcher  afterward  made  a  personal  visit  to 
Dr.  Berridge.  As  he  entered  the  parsonage 
Berridge  ran  to  him,  took  him  into  his  arms,  and 
wept.  "  My  dear  brother,"  he  sobbed,  "  this  is 
indeed  a  satisfaction  I  never  expected.  How 
could  we  write  against  each  other  when  we  both 
aim  at  the  same  thing— the  glory  of  God  and  the 

174 


John  Fletcher  and  Mary  Bosanquet 

good  of  souls?  "  The  servants  being  called  in, 
Fletcher  offered  up  a  prayer  filled  with  petitions 
for  their  being  led  by  the  Holy  Spirit  to  greater 
deo-rees  of  sanctification  and  usefulness  as  min- 
isters. 

His  broken  health  compelled  the  Swiss  pastor 
to  return  for  four  years  to  his  native  land.  Its 
snow-clad  hills  became  to  him  the  "  Delectable 
Mountains,"  whence  he  had  nearer  and  clearer 
vision  of  the  city  of  the  great  King.  He  walked 
in  the  land  of  Beulah,  quite  on  the  verge  of 
heaven.  He  preached,  as  strength  permitted, 
to  the  peasant  people,  and  drank  health  and  re- 
freshing from  the  pure  air  and  inspiring  scenery 
of  the  shores  of  Lake  Leman. 

Like  many  of  the  early  Methodist  preachers, 
John  Fletcher  had  been  too  entirely  engrossed 
in  evangelistic  toil,  too  much  exposed  to  calumny 
and  persecution,  too  poor  in  worldly  estate,  to 
permit  of  courtship  and  marriage.  Yet  he  was 
not  insusceptible  to  the  charm  and  blessedness 
of  wedded  love.  Five  and  twenty  years  before 
the  date  of  which  we  write  the  youthful  beauty 
and  lovely  character  of  Mary  Bosanquet  had  won 
his  heart.  But  she  was  rich  and  he  was  poor. 
Travel  and  study  and  abounding  labors,  and 
perhaps  somewhat  ascetic  notions,  postponed  for 
long  years  the  consummation  of  his  dream  of 
domestic  happiness.     Now  these  long-severed 

175 


Makers  of  Methodism 

lives  were  to  meet  and  flow  on  side  by  side  with 
deepened  joy. 

We  have  seen  by  what  strange  leadings  of 
God's  providence  John  Fletclier  had  been  turned 
from  a  life  of  earthly  ambition  to  one  of  heavenly 
zeal.  No  less  remarkable  was  the  divine  guid- 
ance by  which  Mary  Bosanquet  was  saved  from 
a  career  of  fashion  and  of  refined  selfishness  and 
consecrated  to  one  of  Christian  service  in  the  up- 
lifting of  the  poor,  the  lowly,  and  the  lost.  Her 
memoir,  written  by  herself,  is  a  remarkable 
record  of  religious  experience;  and,  as  one  of 
the  classics  of  Methodist  biography,  has  helped 
to  mold  the  character  and  kindle  the  piety  of 
successive  generations.  From  this  we  sketch 
the  salient  events  of  her  eventful  life. 

Mary  Bosanquet  was  the  daughter  of  wealthy 
and  worldly  parents.  She  was  born  in  the  year 
1739,  and  in  her  youth  was  surrounded  by  as- 
sociations unfavorable  to  a  religious  life.  Never- 
theless, she  very  early  became  the  subject  of 
spiritual  influences.  When  in  her  fifth  year, 
she  says,  she  began  to  have  much  concern  about 
her  soul.  She  was  a  backward  child,  she  naively 
confesses,  and  not  very  well  read  in  the  Scrip- 
tures at  that  early  age — it  would  be  very  remark- 
able if  she  were.  She  could  not,  however,  help 
observing  the  careless  lives  of  those  around  her, 

till  she  began  to  doubt  whether  the  Bible  really 

176 


John  Fletcher  and  Mary  Bosanquet 

meant  what  it  said  about  the  future  life  and  the 
unseen  world. 

"  About  this  time,"  she  writes,  "  there  came 
a  servant  maid  to  live  with  my  father  who  had 
heard  and  felt  some  little  of  the  power  of  in- 
ward religion.  It  was  among  the  people  called 
Methodists  she  had  received  her  instructions." 
The  conversation  of  this  lowly  and  unlettered 
girl  deepened  the  religious  convictions  of  Mary 
Bosanquet.  vShe  thought  if  she  could  only  be- 
come a  Methodist  she  would  be  sure  of  salvation. 
But  she  soon  found  that  it  was  not  being  joined 
to  any  people  that  would  save  her,  but  being 
joined  by  a  living  faith  to  Christ. 

Still  this  way  of  faith  seemed  dark  to  her 
mind.  When  between  seven  and  eight  years 
old,  as  she  mused  on  the  question,  "What  can 
it  be  to  know  my  sins  forgiven.''  "  she  felt 
that  if  it  were  to  die  a  martyr,  she  could  do  it, 
and  she  wished  that  the  papists  would  come  and 
burn  her.  But  soon  she  was  enabled  to  grasp 
the  vital  truth  of  vSalvation  by  faith,  and  ex- 
claimed with  joyful  fervor,  "  I  do,  I  do  rely  on 
Jesus ;  and  God  counts  me  righteous  for  what  he 
has  done  and  suffered,  and  has  forgiven  me  all 
my  sins!  "  "  I  was  surprised,"  she  adds,  "  that 
I  could  not  find  out  this  before;"  a  common  ex- 
perience of  the  soul  on  learning  the  simplicity 

of  the  way  of  salvation. 

177 


Makers  of  Methodism 

Miss  Bosanquet's  worldly-minded  parents,  as 
their  strange,  unworldly  child  grew  up,  instead 
of  fostering  her  religious  feelings,  endeavored  to 
dissipate  them  by  fashionable  amusements.  She 
was  introduced  to  the  gayeties  of  London  society 
and  taken  to  the  ball  and  playhouse  and  other 
gay  resorts.  But  she  found  no  pleasure  in  these, 
to  her,  dreary  amusements.  "  If  I  knew  how 
to  find  the  Methodists,  or  any  who  would  show 
me  how  to  please  God,"  she  wrote,  "  I  would 
tear  off  all  my  fine  things  and  run  through  the 
fire  to  them."  "  If  ever  I  am  my  own  mistress," 
she  prophetically  exclaimed,  "  I  will  spend  half 
the  day  in  working  for  the  poor  and  the  other 
half  in  prayer." 

At  length  she  made  the  acquaintance  of  some 
of  the  Methodists  from  whom  so  much  spiritual 
profit  was  anticipated.  But  they  did  not  quite 
answer  the  expectations  of  this  earnest  soul, 
hungering  and  thirsting  after  religious  fellow- 
ship. '  But  we  must  not  form  our  judgment 
from  the  rich,"  she  remarks;  "  let  us  wait  till 
we  get  acquainted  with  some  of  the  poor  among 
them;  perhaps  they  will  be  the  right  Metho- 
dists, and  more  like  the  first  Christians."  It  is 
not  by  concessions  to  the  world,  nor  by  the 
adoption  of  its  spirit  on  the  part  of  the  Church, 
that  the  followers  of  fashion  will  be  lured  from 

its  follies  and  brought  to  Christ. 

178 


Joiix  Fletcher  and  Mary  Bosanquet 

In  her  fourteenth  year  Miss  Bosanquet  re- 
ceived the  rite  of  confirmation  in  the  stately 
cathedral  of  St.  Paul's,  London.  It  was  to  her 
no  idle  form,  but  an  intense  reality — a  solemn 
renewal  of  her  covenant  with  God  and  consecra- 
tion of  herself  to  his  service.  She  soon  felt 
that  she  could  no  longer  attend  the  theater,  a 
place  of  fashionable  resort  to  which  her  parents 
were  addicted. 

"  I  considered  the  playhouse,"  wrote  this  ma- 
ture young  maiden,  *'  had  a  tendency  to  weaken 
every  Christian  temper  and  to  strengthen  all 
that  was  contrary ;  to  represent  vice  under  the 
false  color  of  virtue,  and  to  lead,  in  every  re- 
vSpect,  to  the  spirit  of  the  world — the  friendship 
of  which,  the  apostle  declares,  is  enmity  with 
God."  She  therefore  begged  to  be  left  at  home, 
and  on  the  refusal  of  her  request  laid  open  her 
whole  heart  to  her  father.  Notwithstanding  his 
remonstrance,  she  was  firm  in  her  obedience  to 
the  dictates  of  her  conscience.  It  was  a  season 
of  great  trial,  she  wrote,  but  the  Lord  stood  by 
her  and  strengthened  her. 

One  incident,  recorded  as  occurring  in  her 
seventeenth  year,  gives  us  a  glimpse  of  the  gay 
world  in  the  middle 'of  the  last  century.  With 
her  father  and  a  numerous  company  she  visited 
the  Royal  George,  the  man-of-war  whose  subse- 
quent tragic  fate  was  made  the  subject  of  Cow- 

179 


Makers  of  Methodism 

per's  pathetic  ballad.*  When  they  got  to  the 
ship  "  it  seemed  like  a  town,  such  a  variety  of 
places  like  shops  were  all  around."  The  com- 
mander, after  doing  the  honors  of  the  ship, 
proposed  a  dance.  "Now,  Miss  Bosanquet, 
what  will  you  do  ?  You  cannot  run  away," 
gayly  queried  one  of  her  friends,  for  her  scru- 
ples were  well  known.  Just  then  the  unex- 
pected approach  of  the  Prince  of  Wales  (afterward 
George  III)  and  Admiral  Anson  was  announced, 
and  the  dance  was  adjourned  sine  die,  to  the 
great  relief  of  Miss  Bosanquet. 

While  in  the  boat  which  conveyed  them  from 
the  ship  the  party  was  exposed  to  imminent  peril 
from  a  rough  sea.  "  How  are  you  so  calm?  " 
one  of  the  votaries  of  pleasure  asked  our  hero- 
ine. "We  are  in  God's  hands,"  she  answered; 
"  I  am  quite  ready  to  sink  or  to  be  saved." 

Her  convictions  of  duty  were  exposed  to  an- 
other trial.  A  gentleman  of  wealth  and  religious 
profession  sought  her  hand  in  marriage.  Her 
parents  and  even  her  religious  advisers  favored 
the  match.  She  could  not,  however,  reconcile 
the   fashionable   habits   of  her  suitor  with   his 


*  It  will  be  remembered  that  the  vessel  sank  in  port,  with  all  her  crew,  while 
careened    for  the  purpose   of   cleaning  her  copper  sheathing.      As  the  ballad 

has  it —  •     •        1        i_ 

"  His  sword  was  in  its  sheath, 

His  fingers  held  the  pen, 

When  Kempenfelt  went  down 

With  twice  four  hundred  men." 

180 


John  Fletcher  and  Mary  Bosanquet 

religious  professions,  and  neither  her  "under- 
standing nor  affection  could  approve  the  pro- 
posal;" so  his  offer  was  kindly  but  firmly 
declined.  She  was  reserved  for  a  nobler  destiny 
than  to  be  a  mere  leader  of  fashion. 

Through  mental  worry  and  physical  weakness 
she  fell  into  a  low,  nervous  fever,  which  her  par- 
ents attributed  to  her  religion.  Severe  med- 
ical treatment  and  confinement  in  a  dark  room 
were  ordered.  "  Will  you  put  me  in  a  mad- 
house, papa?'"  asked  the  poor,  distraught  girl. 
"No,"  replied  her  father,  "but  you  must  be 
shut  up  at  home  unless  you  strive  against  this 
lowness." 

But  God  graciously  helped  her  in  her  extrem- 
ity. She  seemed  to  see  a  light  and  hear  a  voice 
which  assured  her,  "  Thou  shalt  walk  with  me 
in  white,"  and  she  was  greatly  benefited  by  the 
society  of  some  of  the  wise  mothers  in  Israel  of 
London  Methodism.  She  satisfied  herself  by 
seven  good  rea.sons  which  she  records  that  she 
ought  no  longer  to  conform,  in  the  matter  of 
dress  and  personal  adornment,  with  the  some- 
what imperious  requirements  of  the  fashion  of 
the  times.  "  I  was  perplexed,"  she  writes,  "to 
know  how  far  to  conform  and  how  far  to  resist. 
I  feared,  on  the  one  hand,  disobedience  to  my 
parents,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  disobedience  to 
God." 


i8i 


Makers  of  Methodism 

One  day  her  father  said  to  her,  ' '  There  is  a 
particular  promise  which  I  require  of  you,  that 
you  will  never,  on  any  occasion,  either  now  or 
hereafter,  attempt  to  make  your  brothers  what 
you  call  a  Christian." 

"  I  think,  sir,"  she  answered,  "I  dare  not  con- 
sent to  that." 

"Then,"  he  replied,  "you  force  me  to  put 
you  out  of  my  house.  I  do  not  know,"  he  con- 
tinued, "  that  you  ever  disobliged  me  willfully 
in  your  life  but  only  in  these  fancies." 

She  was  now  twenty-one  years  of  age  and  had 
a  small  fortune  of  her  own.  She  therefore 
engaged  a  maidservant  and  took  lodgings,  but 
did  not  go  to  them,  hoping  that  she  might  still 
remain  beneath  her  father's  roof.  One  day  her 
mother  sent  her  word  that  she  must  leave  that 
night  for  her  lodgings,  and  that  the  family  car- 
riage would  convey  her  personal  effects.  She 
bade  farewell  to  the  servants,  who  stood  in  a 
row  in  tears,  and  went  forth  from  her  father's 
house,  banished  for  conscience'  sake. 

Her    lodgings    had    not,    as    yet,    chair,    nor 

table,  nor  bed  ;   so,  after  a  supper  of  bread,  rank 

butter,  and  water,  this  delicate  child  of  luxury 

lay  upon  the  floor  in  the  cold  moonlight  which 

streamed  through  the  uncurtained  windows  into 

her  room,  the  sweetsolemnity  whereof,  she  writes, 

well  agreed  with  the  tranquillity  of  her  spirit. 

182 


^M* 


John  Fletcher  and  Mary  Bosanquet 

She  thus  records  her  feelings  under  this  trial : 
"  I  am  cast  out  of  my  father's  house.  '  I  know 
the  heart  of  a  stranger.'  I  am  exposed  to  the 
world,  and  know  not  what  snares  may  be  gath- 
ering around  me.  I  have  a  weak  understanding 
and  but  little  grace."  She,  therefore,  cried 
unto  God  and  found  a  sweet  calm  overspread 
her  spirit.  She  remembered  the  words,  "  He 
that  loveth  father  or  mother  more  than  me  is 
not  worthy  of  me,"  and  was  cheered  by  the 
promise,  "  When  thy  father  and  mother  forsake 
thee,  the  Lord  shall  take  thee  up." 

She  was,  however,  permitted  to  visit  her 
home,  but  the  parting  as  she  took  leave,  she 
says,  made  the  wound  bleed  afresh. 

She  was  soon  joined  by  Sarah  Ryan,  a  pious 
widow,  and  devoted  her  life  thenceforth  to 
works  of  Christian  charity.  She  shortly  after 
removed  to  a  house  of  her  own  at  Laytonstone, 
her  native  village,  and  converted  it  into  a  school 
for  orphan  children  and  home  for  destitute 
women.  Before  long  she  had  received  thirty- 
five  children  and  thirty-four  grown-up  persons. 
With  the  aid  of  her  friend,  ]\lrs.  Ryan,  she  de- 
voted herself  with  enthusiasm  to  this  work. 
For  economical  reasons  the  whole  household 
were  clothed  in  dark  purple  cotton  dresses  of 
uniform  pattern.  ]\Iany,  both  of  the  children 
and  adults,   were  sicklv,   and  demanded  much 

183 


Makers  of  Methodism 

physical  care,  and  all  received  wise  moral  guid- 
ance and  control.  The  children  were  trained 
in  habits  of  usefulness.  They  rose  between 
four  and  five,  had  early  prayers  and  breakfast. 
School,  housework,  and  recreation  occupied  the 
day,  and  by  eight  at  night,  after  prayers,  they 
went  to  bed. 

Our  gentle  heroine  had  great  need,  she  said, 
of  wisdom  and  patience,  as  may  well  be  con- 
ceived. The  novel  enterprise  met  with  much 
criticism  and  opposition.  On  Sunday  evenings 
a  religious  service  for  the  neighbors  was  held 
in  the  house,  and  sometimes  "  when  the  nights 
were  dark  a  mob  used  to  collect  at  the  gate  and 
throw  dirt  at  the  people  as  they  went  out ;  and 
when  they  were  gone  the  mob  used  to  come 
into  the  yard  and,  putting  their  faces  to  a  win- 
dow which  had  no  shutters,  roar  and  howl  like 
wild  beasts." 

One  night  "four  shabby-looking  men  with 
great  sticks  in  their  hands,"  the  ringleaders  of 
a  mob,  forced  their  way  into  the  kitchen,  but 
Miss  Bosanquet  explained  the  Methodist  "  Rules 
of  Society  "  to  them,  and  asked  if  they  would  ac- 
cept copies.  Subdued  by  her  womanly  win- 
someness  and  by  the  unexpected  request,  "  they 
received  them  with  a  respectful  bow  and  went 
out." 

This  was  a  truly  remarkable  work  for  a  young 

184  . 


John  Fletcher  and  Makv  BnsAXorET 

lady  of  twenty- three  to  carry  on,  but  she  de- 
rived much  help  from  her  friend,  Mrs.  Ryan, 
who  had  previously  had  valuable  experience  as 
the  head  of  the  domestic  department  of  Wesley's 
Woodhouse  Grove  School. 

At  times  the  expenses  of  the  establishment 
exceeded  its  income,  but  in  answer  to  prayer 
help  always  came  when  most  needed,  often  from 
anonymous  sources.  A  wealthy  Methodist  lady, 
a  Miss  Lewen,  came  to  live  in  the  family,  where, 
after  a  time,  she  became  ill.  By  her  will  she 
made  provision  for  the  bequest  of  two  thousand 
pounds  to  the  orphanage.  But  Miss  Bosanquet, 
fearing-  that  God's  cause  might  be  reproached 
thereby,  prevailed  on  her  to  let  it  be  burned,  for 
"what  is  two  thousand  pounds,"  she  exclaimed, 
"  or  two  hundred  thousand  pounds,  compared  to 
the  honor  of  my  God?  "  When  Miss  Lewen  was 
dying  .she  called  for  pen  and  paper,  saying,  "  I 
cannot  die  easy  unless  I  write  something  of  my 
mind  concerning  Sister  Bosanquet  having  the 
two  thousand  pounds,"  and  renewed  the  be- 
quest. But  the  money  w^as  never  claimed,  that 
the  cause  of  God  might  be  above  reproach. 

Shortly  after  this  both  Miss  Bosanquet's  par- 
ents died.  She  had  the  privilege  of  alleviating 
their  last  illness  by  her  filial  ministrations.  She 
received  from  them   many  marks  of  affection, 

and  on   their  death   found  her  fortune  largely 

185 


Makers  of  Methodism 

increased.  But  the  expenses  of  her  growing 
household  more  than  kept  pace  with  her  increase 
of  income. 

The  orphan  institution  was  now  removed  to 
Cross  Hall,  in  Yorkshire,  where  a  large  farm 
was  secured  for  it.  Miss  Bosanquet  was  now 
employed,  with  her  characteristic  energy,  in 
building,  farming,  malting,  and  other  opera- 
tions, in  order  to  ineet  the  growing  expenses  of 
the  institution.  The  religious  services  were 
continued  as  at  Laytonstone,  and  worshipers 
from  far  and  near  flocked  to  the  meetings  so 
numerously  that  there  was  not  room  for  their 
accommodation.  ISIiss  Bosanquet,  therefore, 
established  similar  services  at  convenient  places 
throughout  the  country.  In  1770  Wesley  vis- 
ited the  institution,  and  records  in  his  Journal 
that  "  it  is  a  pattern  and  a  general  blessing  to 
the  country." 

A  gentleman  of  wealth  and  of  religious  char- 
acter, struck  with  admiration  of  her  person  and 
disposition,  asked  Miss  Bosanquet's  hand  in 
marriage.  "  Though  I  had  a  grateful  love 
toward  him,"  she  writes,  "  I  could  not  find  that 
satisfying  affection  which  flows  from  perfect 
confidence,  and  which  is  the  very  spirit  and 
soul  of  marriage."  She  therefore  declined  to 
give  her  hand  where  she  could  not  freely  and 

fully  give  her  heart.     She  accepted  a  life  of  toil 

186 


John  Fletcher  and  Mary  Bosanquet 

and  anxiety  rather  than  one  of  luxury  and 
ease,  at  what  she  conceived  to  be  the  call  of 
duty. 

Notwithstanding  the  utmost  economy,  the 
financial  condition  of  the  institution  became 
greatly  embarrassed.  Although  "the  strictest 
account  was  made  of  every  grain  of  corn,  pint 
of  milk,  or  pound  of  butter,  the  farm  did  not 
pay  its  way."  Miss  Bosanquet  was  greatly  per- 
plexed. She  wrote,  "  I  am  a  woman  of  a  sor- 
rowful spirit."  She  resolved  to  sell  the  estab- 
lishment and  live  on  twenty  pounds  a  year  till 
she  could  pay  her  debts. 

She  felt  increasingly  laid  upon  her  heart  the 
burden  of  souls.  On  account  of  her  health  she 
went  to  Horrowgate  to  drink  the  waters.  While 
stopping  at  an  inn  the  lodgers  on  Sunday  re- 
quested her  to  address  them  in  the  "  great  ball- 
room." "  This  was  a  trial,  indeed,"  she  writes. 
"  Yet,  I  considered,  I  shall  see  these  people  no 
more  till  I  vsce  them  at  the  judgment  seat  of 
Christ ;  and  shall  it  then  be  said  of  me,  '  You 
might  that  day  have  warned  us,  but  you  would 
not?  '  "  She  therefore  consented  to  the  request, 
and  had  much  comfort  and  "  some  fruit"  of  her 
labors. 

Similar  invitations  were  now  frequently  urged 
upon  her.     She  dared  not  refuse  them.    On  one 

occasion  she  rode  twenty  miles  over  the  York- 

187 


Makers  of  Methodism 

shire  moors  to  address  a  meeting  in  the  absence 
of  the  regular  preacher.  To  her  dismay  she 
found  two  or  three  thousand  persons  assembled. 
The  multitude  filled  a  spacious  quarry,  from 
the  edge  of  which  she  addressed  them.  The 
people  seemed  as  if  they  could  never  have 
enough,  and  said,  ' '  When  will  you  come  again  ?" 

This  remarkable  woman  seems  to  have  pos- 
sessed singular  ability  for  addressing  an  audi- 
ence. "  Her  manner  of  speaking,"  writes  Wes- 
ley, "is  smooth,  easy,  and  natural.  Her  words 
are  as  a  fire,  conx-Tsying  both  light  and  heat  to  the 
hearts  of  all  that  hear  her."  But  her  womanly 
sensitiveness  shrank  from  the  task.  Of  one 
occasion  she  writes:  "All  the  day  I  kept  plead- 
ing before  the  Lord,  mostly  in  these  words  of 
Solomon,  'Ah,  Lord,  how  shall  I,  who  am  but 
a  child,  go  in  and  out  before  this,  thy  chosen 
people?'  " 

Mary  Bosanquet  was  now  to  receive  a  new  de- 
velopment of  her  character  and  a  great  increase 
of  her  joys.  A  kindred  spirit,  in  every  way 
worthv  of  her  love,  was  to  win  her  hand  and 
heart.  Rarely,  if  ever,  have  two  more  saintly 
souls  been  united  in  Christian  wedlock  than  John 
Fletcher  and  Mary  Bosanquet.  On  Fletcher's 
return  from  the  Continent  in  1781  he  made  the 
long-cherished  object  of  his  affection  an  offer  of 

his  hand.     It  was  accepted,  and  at  the  mature 

188 


John  Fletcher  and  Mary  Bosanquet 

age  of  fifty-two  and  forty-two  respectively  this 
long-waiting  bridegroom  and  bride  kept  their 
honeymoon.  In  her  devout  thanksgiving  the 
loving  wife  exclaims,  "  ]\Iy  cup  runneth  over." 
So  well  suited  to  each  other  were  these  pious 
souls  that  John  Wesley  was  unwilling  that  they 
should  have  married  otherwise  than  as  they  did. 

The  wealth  of  the  bride  was  now  at  least  no 
barrier  to  the  long-delayed  union.  To  pay  her 
debts  all  her  furniture,  except  a  few  trifles,  had 
to  be  sold.  "  Deal  would  do  for  me,"  she 
writes,  "  as  well  as  mahogany.  I  felt  some  at- 
tachment to  my  neat  furniture  ;  but  love  to  the 
order  of  God  made  me  take  the  spoiling  of 
them  very  cheerfully."  "  I  know  no  want  but 
that  of  more  grace,"  she  adds.  "  Aly  husband 
loves  me  as  Christ  loved  the  Church."  "  My 
wife,"  writes  Fletcher,  "is  far  better  to  me 
than  the  Church  to  Christ." 

The  following  is  Dr.  Stevens's  account  of  the 
married  life  of  the  generous-hearted  John 
Fletcher : 

"  His  charities  to  the  poor  continued  to  ex- 
haust his  income  to  the  last.  His  wife,  equally 
liberal,  assures  us  that  if  he  could  find  a  hand- 
ful of  small  silver  when  he  was  going  out  to 
see  the  sick  he  would  express  as  much  pleasure 
over  it  as  a  miser  would  in  discovering  a  bag  of 

hidden  treasure.     He  was  hardly  able  to  relish 
13  189 


Makers  of  Methodism 

his  dinner  if  some  sick  neighbors  had  not  a 
part  of  it.  On  Sundays  he  provided  for  num- 
bers of  people  who  came  from  a  distance  to 
attend  his  ministrations ;  and  his  house,  as  well 
as  his  church,  was  devoted  to  their  convenience. 

' '  Being  called  upon  by  a  poor  man  who  feared 
God,  but  who  was  reduced  to  great  difficulties, 
he  took  down  all  the  pewter  from  the  kitchen 
shelves,  saying,  '  This  will  help  you,  and  I  can 
do  without  it ;  a  wooden  trencher  will  serve  me 
just  as  well.'  During  epidemic  and  contagious 
diseases,  when  others  fled  from  the  sick  and 
dying,  he  flew  to  them,  offering  his  services  to 
watch  them  by  night  as  well  as  by  day." 

The  happy  union  of  these  twin  souls  was 
destined  to  be  of  short  duration.  Four  short 
years  passed  away  in  labors  more  abundant  for 
the  glory  of  God.  The  zealous  pastor  estab- 
lished a  day  school  and  a  Sunday  school,  and 
soon  had  three  hundred  children  under  religious 
instruction.  The  parish  became  a  proverb  for 
its  piety,  and  the  saintly  influence  which  came 
from  its  humble  vicarage  was  widely  felt  in 
quickening  the  spiritual  life  of  the  neighboring 
community. 

But  this  blessed  toil,  for  one  of  its  laborers  at 
least,  was  soon  to  cease.  The  health  of  Fletcher, 
long  infirm,  broke  down.  Yet,  despite  remon- 
strance, he  continued  his  labors  to  the  last,  and 

190 


John  I-'leiciikr  and  Mary  Bosanquet 

died  like  a  hero,  at  his  post.  On  the  last  day 
of  his  publie  ministry  he  conducted  a  commun- 
ion service  of  four  hours'  length.  A  divine 
unction  rested  upon  the  assembly.  His  wife 
intreated  the  dying  man  to  desist,  but  he 
seemed  to  know  it  was  the  last  time,  and  per- 
sisted in  preaching  and  prayer.  For  several 
days  he  suffered  much,  but  with  continual 
praise  upon  his  lips.  "God  is  love!  Shout! 
Shout  aloud  !  I  want  a  gust  of  praise  to  go  to  the 
ends  of  the  earth !"  cried  the  dying  man.  When 
no  longer  able  to  speak  he  repeatedly,  by  signs 
and  gestures,  bore  witness  to  his  joy  in  the 
Lord,  He  died  in  1785,  in  the  fifty-sixth  year 
of  his  age. 

"  Many  excellent  men,"  said  Wesley,  "  have 
I  known,  holy  in  heart  and  life,  within  four- 
score years ;  but  one  equal  to  him  I  have  not 
known ;  one  so  uniformly  and  deeply  devoted 
to  God,  so  unblamable  a  man  in  every  respect, 
I  have  not  found  either  in  Europe  or  America, 
nor  do  I  expect  to  find  another  such  on  this 
side  of  eternity." 

In  the  first  outburst  of  her  sorrow  the  be- 
reaved widow  was  almost  inconsolable.  "  The 
sun  of  my  earthly  joys  forever  set,"  she  writes; 
"  clouds  and  darkness  surround  both  body  and 
soul." 

But  faith  rose  triumphant  over  her  fears,  and 

191 


Makers  of  Methodism 

for  thirty  years  she  continued  to  live  her  saintly 
life  and  maintain  the  influence  of  her  noble 
husband.  Her  home  at  Madeley  became  a 
sanctuary  to  the  poor,  to  devout  women,  and  to 
the  Methodist  itinerants.  It  became,  also,  an 
important  center  of  religious  influence.  In  her 
own  house  and  in  the  neighboring  hamlets  the 
Scripture  expositions  of  this  "widow  indeed" 
were  accompanied  by  striking  results.  The 
anniversaries  of  her  marriage  and  of  her  hus- 
band's death  were  commemorated  by  holy 
exercises.  On  one  of  these  occasions  in  loving 
remembrance  she  writes  thus:  "Twenty-eight 
years  this  day,  and  at  this  hour,  I  gave  my 
hand  and  heart  to  Jean  Guillaume  de  la 
Flechere — a  profitable  and  blessed  period  of 
my  life !  I  feel  at  this  moment  a  more  tender 
affection  toward  him  than  I  did  at  that  time, 
and  by  faith  I  now  join  my  hands  afresh  with 
his." 

Her  labors  were  extremely  exhausting,  yet 
she  sustained  them  as  long  as  she  had  any 
strength.  "I  am  very  weak,"  she  writes, 
"and  yet  am  oft  five  times  in  a  week  able  to  be 
at  my  meetings,  and  I  have  strength  to  speak 
so  that  all  may  hear,  and  the  Lord  is  very 
present  with  us."  In  her  seventy-sixth  year, 
and  a  few  weeks  before  her  death,  she  writes : 

"  It  is  as  if  every  meeting  would  take  away  my 

192 


John  Fletcher  and  Mary  Bosanquet 

life,  but    I  will    speak    to   them    while    I   have 
breath." 

The  last  entry  in  her  faithfully  kept  Journal 
is  an  aspiration  to  depart  and  be  with  Christ. 
"  I  seem  very  near  death,  but  I  long-  to  fly  into 
the  arms  of  my  beloved  Lord."  Soon  after  she 
entered  into  her  eternal  rest.  Among  her 
dying-  utteranees  were  expressions  of  trium- 
phant confidence  :  ' '  There  is  my  home  and  por- 
tion fair  ;"  "  He  lifts  his  hands  and  shows  that  I 
am  graven  there."  "  The  Lord  bless  both  thee 
and  me,"  she  said  to  a  friend  who  watched  by 
her  bedside,  and  insisted  on  her  retiring  to 
rest.  Then,  in  the  solemn  silence  of  midnight, 
unattended  in  her  dying  hour  by  earthly  min- 
istrations, but  companied  by  angelic  spirits, 
her  soul  passed  away  from  the  travails  and 
trials  of  earth  to  the  raptures  and  triumphs  of 
heaven. 

Her  whole  life  was  a  precious  box  of  alabaster 
broken  on  the  feet  of  the  Lord  she  loved,  the 
rich  perfume  of  whose  anointing  is  fragrant 
throughout  the  world  to-day.  In  the  profusion 
of  her  beneficence  to  others  she  practiced  toward 
herself  a  rigorous  self-denial.  During  the  last 
year  of  her  life  her  expenditure  on  her  own  ap- 
parel was  less  than  twenty  shillings.  The  same 
year  her  "poor  account"  amounted  to  over  one 
hundred  and  eighty  pounds.      Her  annual  per- 

193 


Makers  of  Methodism 

sonal    expenditure    on    dress,    for  many  years, 
never  amounted  to  five  pounds. 

At  her  death,  as  at  that  of  Dorcas,  there  was 
much  weeping  and  lamentation,  not  only  for  the 
alms-deeds  which  she  did,  but  for  the  loss  of  her 
spiritual  ministrations. 

For  nearly  one  hundred  years  the  Life  ami 
Journal  of  this  sainted  soul  has  been  one  of  the 
classics  of  Methodist  biography.  Being  dead, 
she  yet  speaks  in  many  lands  and  in  many 
tongues.  She  rests  from  her  labors,  and  her 
works  do  follow  her. 

Intrepid  and  blessed  spirit !  may  kindred  zeal 
and  devotion  and  impassioned  love  for  souls 
never  cease  from  among  the  women  of  Metho- 
dism till  the  Church  of  God,  the  Lamb's  Wife, 
appear  adorned  as  a  bride  for  her  husband,  for 

the  eternal  blessedness  of  heaven ! 

194 


Methodism  in  the  New  World 


X 

The  Begfinnings  of  Methodism  in  the  New  World 

In  the  providence  of  God  times  and  places 
far  from  one  another  are  often  linked  to- 
gether by  chains  of  sequence — by  relations  of 
cause  and  effect.  The  vast  organization  of 
Methodism  throughout  this  entire  continent,  in 
this  nineteenth  century,  has  a  definite  relation 
to  the  vaulting  ambition  and  persecuting  bigotry 
of  Louis  XIV  in  the  seventeenth  century.  That 
dissolute  monarch  was  not  sated  with  the  atroc- 
ity and  bloodshed  caused  by  his  infamous  revo- 
cation of  the  Edict  of  Nantes  in  1685,  whereby 
half  a  million  of  the  best  subjects  of  France  be- 
came exiles  forever  and  multitudes  more  be- 
came the  victims  of  foulest  outrage  and  wrong. 
He  also  twice  ravaged  the  German  Palatinate,  a 
region  now  included  in  Bavaria,  Baden,  Hesse- 
Darmstadt,  and  Rhenish  Prussia.  In  a  few 
weeks  the  consummate  tactician,  Turenne,  over- 
ran the  country  and  gave  to  the  flames  and  sack 
and  pillage  thirty  thriving  towns. 

Unable  to  maintain  his  conquests  against  the 
resolute  Protestant  inhabitants  and  their  allies, 
the  "Grand   Monarque  "  gave  orders  from  his 

195 


Makers  of  Methodism 

palace  of  Versailles  for  the  titter  devastation  of 
the  country.  The  inhuman  orders  were  obeyed 
with  atrocious  fidelity.  Eighty  thousand  men, 
trained  in  the  art  of  slaughter,  were  let  loose 
upon  the  hapless  country,  which  they  scourged 
with  fire  and  sword.  Heidelberg,  Mannheim, 
Spires,  Worms,  Oppenheim,  Bingen.  and  Baden, 
towns  and  cities  of  historic  fame,  with  their  ven- 
erable cathedrals,  their  stately  palaces,  and  their 
homes  of  industry,  together  with  many  a  hum- 
ble hamlet  and  solitary  farmstead,  were  given 
to  the  flames.  In  the  bleak  and  bitter  winter 
weather  a  hundred  thousand  houseless  peas- 
ants— gray-haired  sires,  mothers,  and  helpless 
children — wandered  about  in  abject  misery.* 

Thousands  of  these  wretched  people  took 
refuge  within  the  lines  of  the  English  general, 
Marlborough,  and  sought  the  shelter  of  the 
British  flacr.  More  than  six  thousand  came  to 
London,  reduced  from  affluence  to  poverty,  and 


*  "  The  French  commander  announced  to  nearly  one  half  million  of  human 
beings  that  he  granted  them  three  days  of  grace,  and  that  within  that  time  they 
must  shift  for  themselves.  Soon  the  roads  and  fields,  which  then  lay  deep  in 
snow,  were  blackened  by  innumerable  men,  women,  and  children  flying  from 
their  homes.  Many  died  of  cold  and  hunger,  but  enough  survived  to  fill  the 
streets  of  all  the  cities  of  Europe  with  lean  and  squalid  beggars,  who  had  once 
been  thriving  farmers  and  shopkeepers."  The  Elector  Philip,  looking  from  the 
walls  of  Mannheim,  counted  in  one  day  no  less  than  twenty-three  towns  and  vil- 
lages in  flames.  In  Spires  the  brutal  soldiery,  as  though  to  express  their 
contempt  for  things  most  sacred,  broke  open  the  imperial  vaults  and  scattered 
the  ashes  of  the  emperors.  The  whole  valley  of  the  Rhine,  on  both  its  banks, 
from  Drachenfels  to  Philippsberg,  was  made  the  prey  of  the  demon  of  rapine  and 
destruction. 

196 


Methodism  ln  the  New  World 

were  fed  by  public  charity.  Nearly  three  thou- 
sand were  sent  to  the  American  colonies,  and 
formed  a  valuable  addition  to  the  population  of 
New  York,  Pennsylvania,  and  North  Carolina. 

A  number,  and  with  these  we  are  at  present 
more  particularly  interested,  immigrated,  under 
the  auspices  of  the  British  government,  to  Ire- 
land, and  settled  in  the  County  of  Limerick, 
near  Rathkeale.  In  a  contemporary  list  of  these 
"  Irish  Palatines  "  occur  the  names,  which  after- 
ward became  so  familiar  in  the  United  States 
and  Canada,  of  Embury,  Heck,  Ruckle, Sweitzer, 
and  others. 

In  the  good  Protestant  soil  of  those  hearts 
providentially  prepared  for  the  reception  of  the 
Gospel  the  seed  of  jSIethodism  was  early  sown. 
Wesley's  itinerant  "  helpers  "  penetrated  to  their 
humble  hamlets,  and  these  poor  refugees  re- 
ceived the  word  with  gladness.  When  John 
Wesley,  in  1758,  passed  through  Ireland, 
preaching  day  and  night,  he  records  that  such  a 
settlement  could  hardly  elsewhere  be  found  in 
either  Ireland  or  England.  The  Palatines  had 
erected  a  large  chapel.  "  There  was  no  curs- 
ing or  swearing,  no  Sabbath-breaking,  no  drunk- 
enness, no  alehouse  among  them." 

They   were    a  serious-thinking    people,    and 

their  diligence  had  turned  all  their  land  into  a 

garden.     **  How  will  these  poor  foreigners,"  he 

197 


Makers  of  Methodism 

exclaims,  "  rise  up  in  the  day  of  judgment 
against  those  that  are  round  about  them !  " 

In  this  remarkable  community  was  born,  in 
the  year  1734,  the  child  destined  to  be  the  Mother 
of  Methodism  in  the  New  World.  The  family 
seem  to  have  been  of  respectable  degree,  and 
gave  the  name  Ruckle  Hill  to  the  place  of  their 
residence  in  Balligarrene.  Barbara  Ruckle  was 
nurtured  in  the  fear  of  the  Lord  and  in  the 
practice  of  piety.  She  grew  to  womanhood  fair 
in  person,  and  adorned  especially  with  those 
spiritual  graces  which  constitute  the  truest 
beauty  of  character.  In  her  eighteenth  year 
she  gave  herself  for  life  to  the  Church  of  her 
fathers  and  formally  took  upon  her  the  vows  of 
the  Lord. 

"  From  the  beginning  of  her  Christian  life," 
records  her  biographer,  ' '  her  piety  was  of  the 
purest  and  profoundest  character.  The  Wes- 
leyan  doctrine  of  the  witness  of  the  Spirit  was 
the  inward  personal  test  of  piety  among  the 
Methodists  of  that  day;  and  it  was  the  daily 
criterion  of  the  spiritual  life  of  Barbara  Heck. 
When,  in  extreme  age,  she  was  about  to  close 
her  life-pilgrimage  in  the  remote  wilds  of  Can- 
ada, after  assisting  in  the  foundation  of  her 
Church  in  that  province,  as  well  as  in  the  United 
States,  she  could  say  that  she  had  never  lost  the 

evidence  of  her  acceptance  with  God  for  twenty- 

198 


Methodism  ix  the  New  World 

four  hours  together  from  the  day  of  her  conver- 
sion." 

In  1760,  in  the  twenty-sixth  year  of  her  age, 
she   was    united    in   Christian  wedlock  to  Paul 


BARBARA  HECK. 

Heck,  who  is  described  as  a  devout  member  of 

the    Teutonic    community.     Ireland    then    had 

scarce  begun  to  send  forth  the  swarms  of  her 

children  who  afterward  swelled   the   population 

199 


Makers  of  Methodism 

of  the  New  World.  Only  her  more  adventur- 
ous spirits  would  brave  the  perils  of  the  stormy- 
deep  and  of  the  untried  lands  beyond  the  sea. 
It  is  therefore  an  indication  of  the  energy  of 
character  of  those  Irish  Palatines  that  about  this 
time  a  little  company  of  them  resolved  to  try 
their  fortunes  on  the  continent  of  America. 

"On  a  spring-  morning  of  1760,"  writes  one 
who  was  familiar  with  the  local  history  of  the 
Palatines,  "a  group  of  emigrants  might  have 
been  seen  at  the  customhouse  quay,  Limerick, 
preparing  to  embark  for  America.  They  were 
accompanied  to  the  vessel's  side  by  crowds  of 
companions  and  friends,  some  of  whom  had  come 
sixteen  miles  to  say  '  farewell.'  One  of  those 
about  to  leave — a  young  man  with  a  thoughtful 
look  and  resolute  bearing — is  evidently  leader  of 
the  party.  He  had  been  one  of  the  first  fruits 
of  his  countrymen  to  Christ,  the  leader  of  the 
infant  Church,  and  in  their  humble  chapel  had 
often  ministered  to  them  the  word  of  life. 

"And  now  the  last  prayer  is  offered;   they 

embrace  each  other;   the  vessel  begins  to  move. 

As    she    recedes    uplifted    hands    and    uplifted 

hearts    attest    what    all   felt.      And  none  of  all 

that   vast  multitude   felt   more,  probably,   than 

that  young  man.    His  name  was  Philip  Embury. 

His  party  consisted  of  his  wife,  Mary  Sweitzer 

(remarkable   for  her  personal    beauty,  and  re- 

200 


Methodism  in  thk  Nkw  World 

cently  married,  at  the  early  age  of  sixteen,  to 
her  noble  husband),  his  two  brothers  and  their 
families,  Paul  Heck  and  Barbara  his  wife,  and 
others.  Who  among  the  crowd  that  saw  them 
leave  could  have  thought  that  two  of  the  little 
band  were  destined,  in  the  providence  of  God, 
to  influence  for  good  countless  myriads,  and 
that  their  names  should  live  long  as  the  sun  and 
moon  endure?  Yet  so  it  was.  That  vessel 
contained  Philip  Embury,  the  first  class  leader 
and  local  preacher  of  Methodism  on  the  Ameri- 
can continent,  and  Barbara  Heck,  '  a  mother  in 
Israel,'  one  of  its  first  members,  the  germ  from 
which,  in  the  good  providence  of  God,  has 
sprung  the  IMethodist  Church  of  the  United 
States  [and  Canada],  a  Church  which  has  now 
under  its  influence  about  seven  millions  [now 
ten,  at  least]  of  the  germinant  mind  of  that  new 
and  teeming  atmosphere!  " 

The  sailing  of  the  little  vessel  was  all  un- 
heeded by  the  great  world,  which  would  have 
recked  little  had  it  foundered  in  the  deep.  But 
that  frail  bark  was  freighted  with  the  seed  of  a 
glorious  harvest  which  was  destined  to  fill  the 
whole  land,  the  fruit  whereof  should  shake  like 
Lebanon.  Those  earnest  souls,  in  the  flush  of 
youth  and  hope  and  love,  carried  with  them  the 
immortal  leaven  which  was  to  leaven  with  its 

spiritual  life  a  whole  continent. 

20 1 


Makers  of  Methodism 

After  a  weary  voyage  of  many  weeks  the  "des- 
tined vessel,  richly  freighted,"  safely  reached 
NewYorkonthe  loth  of  August,  1760.  Amid  the 
disappointments  of  hope  deferred  and  the  novel 
temptations  by  which  they  were  surrounded, 
deprived,  too,  of  the  spiritual  ministrations  with 
which  they  had  been  favored  in  the  old  home, 
these  humble  Palatines  appear  to  have  sunk  into 
religious  apathy  and  despondency.  Like  the 
exiles  of  Babylon,  they  seemed  to  say,  "  How 
shall  we  sing  the  Lord's  song  in  a  strange  land?" 
Embury,  for  a  time,  lost  his  zeal,  and,  constitu- 
tionally diffident,  shrank  from  the  responsibility 
of  religious  leadership.  While  he  justly  ranks 
as  the  founder  of  American  Methodism,  Bar- 
bara Heck,  as  Dr.  Stevens  well  remarks,  may 
even  take  precedence  over  him  as  its  foundress. 
She  nourished,  during  all  this  time,  her  reli- 
gious life  by  communion  with  God  and  by  the 
devout  reading  of  her  old  German  Bible. 

Five  years  later  other  Palatines,  some  of  them 

relatives   or    old  friends   of   the   Emburys  and 

Hecks,    arrived   at    New  York.     Few  of  these 

were  Wesleyans,  and  some  made  no  profession 

of  religion  whatever.      In  the  renewal  of  social 

intercourse  between  the  old  and  new  arrivals  a 

game  of  cards  was  introduced.     There    is    no 

evidence  that  any  of  the  Wesleyans  took  part  in 

this   worldly  amusement.     But   Barbara  Heck 

202 


Methodism  in  the  Ni;w  World 

felt  that  the  time  had  come  to  speak  out  in 
earnest  remonstrance  against  the  spiritual  de- 
clension of  which  she  regarded  this  occupation 
as  the  evidence.  In  the  spirit  of  an  ancient 
prophetess  she  seized  the  cards  and  threw  them 
into  the  fire,  and  solemnly  warned  the  players 
of  their  danger  and  their  duty. 

Under  a  divine  impulse  she  went  straightway 
to  the  house  of  her  cousin,  Philip  Embury,  and 
appealed  to  him  to  be  no  longer  silent,  "en- 
treating him  with  tears."  AVith  a  keen  sense 
of  the  spiritual  danger  of  the  little  flock  she 
exclaimed,  "  You  must  preach  to  us  or  we  shall 
all  go  to  hell  together,  and  God  will  require  our 
blood  at  your  hands."  "  I  cannot  preach,  for  I 
have  neither  house  nor  congregation,"  he  re- 
plied. Nevertheless,  at  her  earnest  adjuration 
he  consented  to  preach  in  "his  own  hired  house," 
and  this  mother  in  Israel  sallied  forth  and  col- 
lected four  persons,  who  constituted  his  first 
audience.  Its  composition  was  typical  of  the 
diverse  classes  which  the  vast  organization  of 
which  it  was  the  germ  was  to  embrace. 

"  Small  as  it  was,"  says  Dr.  Stevens,  "  it  in- 
cluded white  and  black,  bond  and  free ;  while 
it  was  also  an  example  of  that  lay  ministration 
of  reliofion  which  has  extended  the  denomina- 
tion  in   all  quarters  of  the  world,  and  of  that 

agency  of  woman  to  which  an  inestimable  pro- 

203 


Makers  of  Methodism 

portion  of  the  vitality  and  power  of  the  Church 
is  attributable.  The  name  of  Barbara  Heck  is 
first  on  the  list;  with  her  was  her  husband,  Paul 
Heck  ;  beside  him  sat  John  Lawrence,  his  '  hired 
man,'  and  by  her  side  an  African  servant,  called 
'  Betty.'  Thus  Methodism  began  its  ministra- 
tion among  the  poor  and  lowly,  destined  within 
a  century  to  cover  with  its  agencies  a  vast  con- 
tinent, and  to  establish  its  missions  in  every 
quarter  of  the  globe." 

At  the  close  of  the  first  Methodist  sermon 
ever  preached  in  America  Philip  Embury  or- 
ganized his  congregation  into  a  class,  which  he 
continued  to  meet  from  week  to  week.  The 
little  company  continued  to  increase,  and  soon 
grew  too  large  for  Philip  Embury's  house.  They 
hired  a  more  commodious  room,  which  was  im- 
mediately crowded.  "No  small  excitement," 
says  Dr.  Stevens,  ' '  began  quickly  to  prevail  in 
the  city  on  account  of  these  meetings."  Philip 
Embury,  toiling  all  the  week  for  the  bread  that 
perisheth,  continued  from  vSabbath  to  Sabbath  to 
break  unto  the  people  the  bread  of  life.  As  in 
the  case  of  the  great  Preacher,  "  the  common 
people  heard  him  gladly."  He  was  one  of  them- 
selves, and  spoke  to  them  of  common  needs  and 
of  a  common  Saviour,  and  their  hearts  responded 
warmly  to  his  words. 

One  day  the   humble  assembly  was  a  good 

204 


Methodism  in  the  New  World 

deal  startled  by  the  appearance  among  them  of 
a  military  officer  with  scarlet  coat,  epaulets,  and 
sword.  The  first  impression  was  that  he  had 
come  in  the  king's  name  to  prohibit  their  meet- 
ings.    They   were  soon  agreeably  undeceived. 


CAPTAIN    WEBB. 


In  the  good  and  brave  Captain  Webb  they  found 

a  firm  friend  and  fellow-laborer  in  the  Lord.    He 

was  one  of  Wesley's  local  preachers  who,  sent 

with  his  regiment  to  America,   found  out  the 

New  York  Methodists  and  gladly  cast  in  his  lot 

with  them.     He  soon  took  his  stand  at  Embury's 
14  205 


Makers  of  Methodism 

preaching  desk,  "  with  his  sword  on  it  by  the 
side  of  the  open  Bible,"  and  declared  to  the  peo- 
ple the  word  of  life.  The  preaching  of  the 
soldier-saint  roused  the  whole  city  and  promoted 
at  once  the  social  prestige  and  religious  prosper- 
ity of  the  humble  church.  For  the  ten  years 
that  he  continued  in  America  he  was  the  chief 
founder  of  Methodism  on  the  continent,  preach- 
ing everywhere  among  the  seaboard  towns  and 
villages.  ' '  The  old  soldier, "  said  President  John 
Adams,  "  was  one  of  the  most  eloquent  men  I 
ever  heard."  He  had  the  honor  of  introducing 
Methodism  into  the  Quaker  City,  where  to-day 
it  is  so  powerful,  as  well  as  of  planting  it  in  many 
of  the  towns  of  Pennsylvania,  New  Jersey,  and 
Long  Island. 

In  1767  the  famous  "  Rigging  Loft,"  in  Wil- 
liam Street,  was  hired  for  the  growing  New  York 
congregation;  but  "it  could  not,"  says  a  con- 
temporary writer,  ' '  contain  half  the  people  who 
desired  to  hear  the  word  of  the  Lord."  The 
necessity  for  a  larger  place  of  worship  became 
imperative,  but  where  could  this  humble  com- 
munity obtain  the  means  for  its  erection  ?  Bar- 
bara Heck,  full  of  faith,  made  it  a  subject  of 
prayer,  and  received  in  her  soul,  with  inexpress- 
ible assurance,  the  answer,  "I,  the  Lord,  will 
do  it."     She  proposed  an   economical  plan   for 

the  erection  of  the  church,  which  she  believed 

206 


Methodism  in  the  New  World 

to  be  a  suggestion  from  God.  It  was  adopted  by 
the  society,  and  "the  first  structure  of  the  de- 
nomination in  the  western  hemisphere,"  says 
Dr.  Stevens,  "  was  a  monumental  image  of  the 
humble  thought  of  this  devoted  woman.  Cap- 
tain Webb  entered  heartily  into  the  undertak- 
ing. It  would  probably  not  have  been  attempted 
without  his  aid.  He  subscribed  thirty  pounds 
toward  it,  the  largest  sum  by  one  third  given  by 
one  person." 

The  little  Methodist  community  appealed  to 
the  public  for  assistance,  and  the  subscription 
list  is  still  preserved,  representing  all  classes, 
from  the  mayor  of  the  city  down  to  the  African 
female  servants,  designated  only  by  their  Chris- 
tian names.  A  site  on  John  Street,  now  in  the 
very  heart  of  the  business  portion  of  the  city, 
surrounded  by  the  banks  of  Wall  Street  and  the 
palaces  of  Broadway,  was  procured,  and  a  chapel 
of  stone,  faced  with  blue  plaster,  was  in  course 
of  time  erected.  As  dissenters  were  not  al- 
lowed to  erect  "  regular  churches  "  in  the  city, 
in  order  to  avoid  the  penalties  of  the  law  it  was 
provided  with  a  fireplace  and  chimney.  Its  in- 
terior, though  long  unfurnished,  was  described 
as  "  very  neat  and  clean,  and  the  floor  sprinkled 
over  with  sand  as  white  as  snow."  "  Embury, 
being  a  skillful  carpenter,    wrought  diligently 

upon  this  structure;   and  Barbara  Heck,  rejoi- 

207 


Makers  of  Methodism 

cing  in  the  work  of  her  hands,  helped  to  white- 
wash its  walls."  "  There  were  at  first  no  stairs 
or  breastwork  to  the  gallery ;  it  was  reached  by 
a  rude  ladder.  The  seats  on  the  ground  floor 
were  plain  benches  without  backs.  Embury 
constructed  with  his  own  hands  its  pulpit ;  and 
on  the  memorable  30th  of  October,  1 768,  mounted 
the  desk  he  had  made  and  dedicated  the  humble 
temple  to  the  worship  of  God.  It  received  the 
name  of  '  Wesley  Chapel,'  and  was  the  first  in 
the  world  to  receive  that  honored  name." 

Within  two  years  we  read  of  at  least  a  thou- 
sand hearers  crowding  the  chapel  and  the  space 
in  front.  It  has  been  more  than  once  recon- 
structed since  then,  but  a  portion  of  the  first 
building  is  still  visible.  A  wooden  clock,  brought 
from  Ireland  by  Philip  Embury,  still  marks  the 
hours  of  worship.  Marble  tablets  on  the  walls 
commemorate  the  names  and  virtues  of  Barbara 
Heck  and  Embury,  and  of  Asbury  and  Summer- 
field,  faithful  pastors,  whose  memory  is  still 
fragrant  throughout  the  continent.  This  mother 
church  of  American  Methodism  will  long  con- 
tinue to  attract  the  footsteps  of  many  a  devout 
pilgrim  to  the  birthplace  of  the  Church  of  our 
fathers  and  of  his  own  religious  fellowship. 

It  is  a  somewhat  remarkable  coincidence  that 

shortly  after  Embury  had  introduced  Methodism 

into   New  York  another   Irish    local   preacher, 

208 


Methodism  in  the  New  World 

Robert  Strawbridge  by  name,  was  the  means  of 
its  introduction  into  the  province  of  Maryland. 
Like  Embury,  he  preached  first  in  his  own  house, 
and  afterward  in  a  humble  ' '  log  meeting- 
house," the  prototype  of  thousands  such  which 
were  destined  to  rise  as  golden  candlesticks  amid 
the  moral  darkness  all  over  this  vast  continent. 

Methodism  having  been  established  by  lay 
agency  in  the  largest  city  in  the  New  World,  it 
was  destined  to  be  planted  by  the  same  means  in 
the  waste  places  of  the  country.  John  Wesley, 
at  the  solicitation  of  Captain  Webb  and  other 
Alethodists  in  America,  had  sent  from  England 
as  missionaries  to  carry  on  the  good  work  begun 
in  New  York,  Richard  Boardman  and  Joseph 
Pilmoor,  the  pioneers  of  an  army  of  twenty  thou- 
sand Methodist  preachers  on  this  continent.  To 
these  Philip  Embury  readily  gave  up  his  pulpit, 
and  shortly  after,  in  1770,  removed  with  his 
family,  together  with  Paul  and  Barbara  Heck 
and  other  Palatine  Methodists,  to  vSalem,  Wash- 
ington County,  New  York,  near  Lake  Champlain. 

This  now  flourishing  and  populous  part  of  the 

country  was  then  a  wilderness.      But  under  these 

changed  conditions  those  godly  pioneers  ceased 

not  to  prosecute  their  providential  mis.sion — the 

founding   of    Methodism    in    the    New  World. 

Embury  continued  his  labors  as  a  faithful  local 

preacher,  and  soon  among  the  scattered  popula- 

2og 


Makers  of  Methodism 

tion  of  settlers  was  formed  a  "class,"  the  first 
within  the  bounds  of  the  Troy  Conference, 
which  has  since  multiplied  to  two  hundred  and 
eighty-eight  preachers  and  forty-nine  thousand 
members. 

Embury  seems  to  have  won  the  confidence 
and  esteem  of  his  rural  neighbors  no  less  for  his 
practical  business  efficiency  and  sound  judgment 
than  for  his  sterling  piety,  as  we  find  him  offici- 
ating as  magistrate  as  well  as  preacher. 

He  received,  while  mowing  in  his  field  in  the 
summer  of  1775,  so  severe  an  injury  that  he 
died  suddenly,  at  the  early  age  of  forty-five. 
"He  was,"  writes  Asbury,  who  knew  him  well, 
"greatly  beloved  and  much  lamented."  He 
was  buried,  after  the  manner  of  the  primitive 
.settlers,  on  the  farm  on  which  he  had  lived  and 
labored.  "  After  reposing,"  writes  Dr.  Stevens, 
'  *  fifty-seven  years  in  his  solitary  grave  without 
a  memorial  his  remains  were  disinterred  with 
solemn  ceremonies,  and  borne  by  a  large  pro- 
cession to  the  Ashgrove  burial  ground,  where 
their  resting  place  is  marked  by  a  monument  re- 
cording that  he  '  was  the  first  to  set  in  motion  a 
train  of  measures  which  resulted  in  the  found- 
ing of  the  John  Street  Church,  the  cradle  of 
American  Methodism,  and  the  introduction  of  a 
system  which  has  beautified  the  earth  with  sal- 
vation and  increased  the  joys  of  heaven.'" 

210 


Methodism  in  thp:  New  World 

On  the  outbreak  of  the  Revokitionary  War 
many  of  the  loyal  Palatines  maintained  their 
allegiance  to  the  old  flag  by  removing  to  Lower 
Canada.  Here  they  remained  for  ten  years, 
chiefly  in  Montreal.  In  1785  a  number  of  them 
removed  to  Upper  Canada,  then  newly  organ- 
ized as  a  province,  and  settled  in  the  township  of 
Augusta,  on  the  river  St.  Lawrence.  Among 
these  were  John  Lawrence  and  Catharine,  his 
wife,  who  was  the  widow  of  Philip  Embury; 
Paul  and  Barbara  Heck,  and  other  Palatine 
Methodists.  True  to  their  providential  mission, 
they  became  the  founders  and  pioneers  of  Meth- 
odism in  Canada,  as  they  had  been  in  the  United 
States.  A  "  class"  was  forthwith  organized,  of 
which  Samuel  Embury,  walking  in  the  footsteps 
of  his  sainted  father,  was  the  first  leader.  Thus, 
six  years  before  the  advent  into  Canada  of  Wil- 
liam Losee,  the  first  regular  Methodist  preacher 
who  entered  the  country,  Methodism  was  already 
organized  through  the  energies  of  those  honored 
lay  agents. 

Barbara  Heck  died  at  the  residence  of  her  son, 
Samuel  Heck,  in  1804,  aged  seventy  years. 
"Her  death,"  writes  Dr.  Stevens,  "was  befit- 
ting her  life ;  her  old  German  Bible,  the  guide 
of  her  youth  in  Ireland,  her  resource  during  the 
falling  away  of  her  people  in  New  York,  her  in- 
separable companion  in  all  her  wanderings  in  the 


21 1 


Makers  of  Methodism 

wildernesses  of  northern  New  York  and  Canada, 
was  her  oracle  and  comfort  to  the  last.  She  was 
found  sitting  in  her  chair,  dead,  with  the  well- 
used  and  endeared  volume  open  on  her  lap. 
Thus  passed  away  this  devoted,  obscure,  and 
unpretentious  woman  who  so  faithfully,  yet  un- 
consciously, laid  the  foundations  of  one  of  the 
grandest  ecclesiastical  structures  of  modern 
ages,  and  whose  name  shall  shine  with  ever-in- 
creasing brightness  as  long  as  the  sun  and  moon 
endure." 

In  the  old  "  Blue  Church  "  graveyard,  on  the 
banks  of  the  majestic  St.  Lawrence,  slumbers 
the  dust  of  the  founders  and  of  many  of  the  pi- 
oneers of  Methodism  in  Canada.  The  spot 
takes  its  name  from  an  ancient  church,  now  de- 
molished, which  once  wore  a  coat  of  blue  paint. 
Thither  devout  men,  amid  the  tears  of  neigh- 
bors and  friends,  bore  the  remains  of  Paul  Heck 
and  of  Barbara  his  wife.  Here,  too,  slumbers 
the  dust  of  the  beautiful  Catharine  Sweitzer, 
who  in  her  early  youth  gave  her  heart  to  God 
and  her  hand  to  Philip  Embury,  and  for  love's 
sweet  sake  braved  the  perils  of  the  stormy  deep 
and  the  privations  of  pioneer  life  in  the  New 
World.  Here  sleep,  also,  till  the  resurrection 
trump  awake  them,  the  bodies  of  several  of  the 
early  Palatine  Methodists  and  of  many  of  their 
descendants,  who,  by  their  patient  toil,   their 


Methodism  in  the  New  World 

earnest  faith,  their  fervent  zeal,  have  helped  to 
lay  the  foundations  of  ]SIethodism  on  this  conti- 
nent. 

As  we  contemplate  the  lowly  life  of  this  true 
mother  in  Israel,  and  the  marvelous  results  of 
which  she  was  the  initiating  cause,  we  cannot 
help  exclaiming  in  devout  wonder  and  thanks- 
giving, "What  hath  God  wrought!"  In  the 
United  States  and  Canada  there  is  at  this 
moment,  as  the  outgrowth  of  seed  sown  in 
weakness  over  a  century  ago,  a  great  church  or- 
ganization, like  a  vast  banyan  tree,  overspread- 
ing the  continent,  beneath  whose  broad  canopy 
ten  millions  of  souls,  as  members  or  adherents, 
enroll  themselves  by  the  name  of  Methodists,  and 
go  in  and  out  and  find  spiritual  pasture.  The 
solitary  testimony  of  Philip  Embury  has  been 
succeeded  by  that  of  a  great  army  of  twenty 
thousand  local  preachers  and  nearly  as  many 
ordained  ministers.  Over  two  hundred  Metho- 
dist collew-es  and  academies  imite  in  hallowed 
wedlock  the  principles  of  sound  learning  and 
vital  godliness.  Nearly  half  a  hundred  news- 
papers, magazines,  and  other  periodicals,  to- 
gether with  a  whole  library  of  books  of 
Methodist  authorship,  scatter  broadcast  through- 
out the  land  the  religious  teachings  of  which 
those  lowly  Palatines  were  the  first  representa- 
tives in  the  New  World. 

213 


Makers  of  Methodism 

The  Methodists  of  the  United  States  worthily 
honored  the  memory  of  Barbara  Heck  by  the 
erection  of  a  memorial  building  in  connection 
with  the  Garrett  Biblical  Institute,  at  Evanston, 
111. — itself  the  gift  of  a  noble-minded  American 
woman — to  be  known  forever  as  Heck  Hall. 
Thus  do  two  devout  women,  one  the  heir  of 
lowly  toil,  the  other  the  daughter  of  luxury  and 
wealth,  join  hands  across  the  century,  and  their 
names  and  virtues  are  commemorated  not  by  a 
costly  but  useless  pillared  monument,  but  by  a 
"  home  for  the  sons  of  the  prophets,  the  Philip 
Emburys  of  the  coming  century,  while  pursuing 
their  sacred  studies." 

"  Barbara  Heck,"  writes  Bishop  Fowler  in 
commemorating  this  event,  "  put  her  brave  soul 
against  the  rugged  possibilities  of  the  future,  and 
throbbed  into  existence  American  Methodism. 
The  leaven  of  her  grace  has  leavened  a  conti- 
nent. The  seed  of  her  piety  has  grown  into  a 
tree  so  immense  that  a  whole  flock  of  common- 
wealths come  and  lodge  in  the  branches  thereof, 
and  its  mellow  fruits  drop  into  a  million  homes. 
To  have  planted  American  Methodism ;  to  hav^e 
watered  it  with  holy  tears ;  to  have  watched  and 
nourished  it  with  the  tender,  sleepless  love  of  a 
mother  and  the  pious  devotion  of  a  saint ;  to  have 
called  out  the  first  minister,  convened  the  first 

congregation,  met  the  first  class,  and  planned 

214 


Methodism  in  the  New  World 

the  first  Methodist  church  edifice,  and  to  have 
secured  its  completion,  is  to  have  merited  a 
monument  as  enduring  as  American  institu- 
tions, and,  in  the  order  of  Providence,  it  has  re- 
ceived a  monument  which  the  years  cannot 
crumble  as  enduring-  as  the  Church  of  God. 
The  life  work  of  Barbara  Heck  find  sits  counter- 
part in  the  living  energies  of  the  Church  she 
founded." 

Canadian  ]\Iethodism  has  not  been  unmindful 
of  its  obliofation  to  this  sainted  woman,  and  is 
erecting  as  a  perpetual  memorial  a  Barbara  Heck 
Woman's  Residence  in  connection  with  Victoria 

University,  Toronto. 

215 


Makers  of  Methodism 


XI 

Dr.  Coke,  the  Father  of  Methodist  Missions 

The  special  characteristic  of  Methodism  is  its 
missionary  zeal.  It  obeys  the  exhortation  of  its 
founder,  to  go  not  only  to  those  who  need  it,  but 
to  those  who  need  it  most.  It  delights  to  re- 
member the  forgotten,  to  succor  the  neglected, 
to  seek  out  the  forsaken.  As  if  prescient  of  the 
destined  universality  of  the  Church  which  he 
planted,  John  Wesley  witli  prophetic  soul  ex- 
claimed, "  The  world  is  my  parish." 

On  manv  a  field  of  sacred  toil  have  the  minis- 
ters  of  the  Methodist  Church  vindicated  its  dis- 
tinction of  being  preeminently  a  missionary 
Church — amid  the  cinnamon  groves  of  Ceylon, 
in  the  crowded  bazars  or  tangled  jungles  of 
India,  among  the  teeming  populations  of  China, 
in  sunny  islands  of  the  Southern  Seas,  in  the 
Zulu's  liut  and  the  Kaffir's  kraal,  and  amid  the 
strongholds  of  heathen  savagery.  With  a 
prouder  boast  than  the  Roman  poet  they  may 
exclaim,  "  What  region  in  the  world  is  not  full 
of  our  labor  ?  "  In  every  land  beneath  the  sun 
this  grand    old    mother   of   Churches    has    her 

daughters,  fair  and  flourishing,  who  rise  up  and 

216 


Dr.  Coke,  Father  of  Methodist  Missions 

call  her  blessed.  The  Sabbath  chant  of  her 
hymns  engirdles  the  earth  \vith  an  anthem  of 
praise,  and  the  sheen  of  her  spires  rejoices  in  the 
light  of  a  ceaseless  morning. 


To  no  man  does  Methodism  owe  more  its  mis- 
sionary character  than  to  the  Rev.  Thomas  Coke, 

D.C.L.     This  marvelous  man,  of  puny  form  but 

217 


Makers  of  Methodism 

of  giant  energy,  with  a  burning  zeal  kindled  at 
the  altar  of  eternal  truth— like  the  angel  of  the 
Apocalypse,  flying  abroad  under  the  whole 
heaven  with  the  everlasting  Gospel — preached 
the  glad  evangel  of  God's  grace  in  both  hemi- 
spheres, became  the  founder  of  Wesleyan  mis- 
sions in  the  East  and  West  Indies,  and  the  first 
bishop  of  the  American  Methodism — a  Church 
now  boundless  as  the  continent.  After  crossing 
eighteen  times  the  stormy  sea  he  was  at  last 
buried  in  its  depths,  whose  waters,  like  his  in- 
fluence, encompass  the  world.  The  study  of  this 
heroic  life  will  be  fruitful  at  once  in  lessons  of 
gratitude  to  God,  of  inspiration  to  duty,  and  of 
zeal  in  the  service  of  the  divine  Master. 

Nestling  in  the  soft  valley  of  the  Usk,  sur- 
rounded by  the  towering  mountains  of  Wales, 
lies  the  old  ecclesiastical  borough  of  Brecon,  the 
site  of  an  ancient  Dominican  priory,  whose  ivy- 
mantled  walls  form  one  of  the  most  picturesque 
ruins  in  Britain.  In  the  oak-roofed,  time-stained 
town  hall  of  the  ancient  borough,  at  the  middle 
of  the  last  century,  might  have  been  seen,  ar- 
rayed in  the  robes  and  insignia  of  office,  a  worthy 
alderman  dispensing  justice  to  the  rural  litigants 
of  the  neighborhood.  This  was  the  chief  mag- 
istrate of  Brecon  and  the  father  of  Thomas 
Coke. 

The  future  apostle  of  Methodism,  unlike  many 

218 


Dr.  Coke,  Father  of  Methodist  Missions 

of  its  early  ministers,  was  the  heir  of  a  large 
patrimony.  He  was  born  three  years  before 
the  middle  of  the  eentur}'  (1747),  and  spent  his 
early  years  amid  the  romantic  surroundings  of 
"  Usk  and  Camelot,"  the  scene  of  the  legendary 
exploits  of  King  Arthur  and  the  knights  of  the 
Round  Table.  In  his  sixteenth  year  he  was 
registered  as  gentleman-commoner  at  Jesus  Col- 
lege, Oxford.  Among  his  college  associates 
were  the  future  Lord  Eldon,  Chancellor  of  Eng- 
land, who  always  retained  for  him  a  warm 
friendship ;  William  Jones,  who  became  the 
first  orientalist  of  his  age ;  Wharton,  the  his- 
torian of  British  poetry ;  and  the  future  bishops, 
Home  and  Kennicott. 

The  handsome  young  patrician  student  was 
not  proof  against  the  seductions  of  Oxford  so- 
ciety. He  unhappily  fell  into  evil  habits,  and 
even  became  infected  with  the  infidel  principles 
which  were  then  too  much  in  vogue  at  the  uni- 
versity. But  a  divine  restraint  and  guidance 
prevented  him  from  forsaking  his  hereditary 
faith  and  confirmed  him  in,  at  least,  an  intellec- 
tual apprehension  of  the  truths  of  Christianity, 
although,  as  yet,  he  knew  not  by  experience 
their  saving  power.  He  completed  his  college 
course  with  distinction,  and  shortly  after  his 
coming  of  age  was  elected  to  the  chief  magis- 
tracy of  his  native  town.     But,  yearning  to  live 

219 


Makers  of  Methodism 

a  life  of  Christian  service,  he  entered  holy  orders 
in  the  humble  rank  of  a  village  curate.  Yet  his 
heart  was  ill  at  ease,  for  he  felt  that  the  Saviour 
whom  he  was  called  to  preach  was  to  himself 
unknown. 

Still,  his  moral  earnestness  awakened  much  in- 
terest in  his  parish.  His  church  became  crowded, 
and  to  accommodate  the  increased  congregation 
he  erected  a  gallery  at  his  own  expense.  Dur- 
ing this  time  he  made  the  acquaintance  of 
Thomas  Maxfield,  Wesley's  first  lay  preacher, 
and  by  him  was  led  to  more  spiritual  views  of 
religion.  He  became  increasingly  diligent  in 
the  discharge  of  parish  duty.  He  met  one  day 
in  his  pastoral  visitation  a  humble  Methodist 
farm  laborer  who,  unlettered  in  the  lore  of  the 
schools,  was  wise  in  the  knowledge  of  God. 
From  this  rustic  teacher  the  Oxford  scholar 
gained  a  clearer  acquaintance  with  the  way  of 
salvation  by  faith  than  from  the  learned  divines 
and  bishops  of  the  first  university  of  Europe. 

The  zeal  of  the  popular  curate  soon  began  to 
exceed  the  bounds  of  clerical  decorum,  as  re- 
garded in  the  Church  established  by  law.  He 
preached  with  increasing  fervor,  and  without 
the  "regulation  manuscript."  He  held  special 
services  out  of  church  hours  on  Sunday,  and  on 
week  evenings,  in  remote  parts  of  his  parish. 

He  introduced  the  singing  of  the  soul-stirring 

220 


Dr.  Coke,  Father  of  Methodist  Missions 

hymns  of  Watts  and  Wesley.  He  was  no  longer 
the  easy-going,  card-playing  parson  of  his  early 
incumbency,  but  a  "dangerous  fanatic,"  right- 
eous overmuch,  and,  in  fact,  infected  with  the 
pestilent  heresy  of  Methodism,  whose  Arminian 
doctrines  of  free  grace  he  proclaimed  from  the 
parish  pulpit. 

The  overearnest  curate  was  soon  dismissed  by 
his  rector,  admonished  for  his' "irregularities" 
by  the  Bishop  of  Bath  and  Wells,  and  expelled 
from  his  church.  His  churchly  notions  were 
still  so  exalted  that,  after  a  long  and  profitable 
correspondence  with  a  dissenting  minister,  when 
invited  to  a  personal  interview  he  would  only 
consent  to  its  taking  place  under  the  neutral 
ground  of  a  neighbor's  house,  his  scruples  pre- 
venting him  visiting  a  dissenter  or  meeting  one 
under  his  own  roof.  To  receive  himself  the  ob- 
noxious brand  of  a  Methodist  was  therefore  par- 
ticularly distasteful.  He  had  just  obtained  his 
hiofhest  academical  degree — that  of  Doctor  of 
Civil  Law.  Church  preferment  was  proffered 
him  by  a  nobleman  of  powerful  influence.  But 
the  authority  of  conscience  was  supreme,  and  he 
faltered  not  for  a  moment  in  his  loyalty  to  the 
convictions  of  his  soul.  Neither  worldly  hopes 
nor  io-noble  fears  could  make  him  swerve  from 
what  he  deemed  the  path  of  duty. 

A  personal   interview  with  John  Wesley  con- 


J2I 


Makers  of  Methodism 

vinced  Dr.  Coke  that  for  scholarship  and  saint- 
liness  the  despised  Methodists  possessed  the 
very  paragon  of  clergymen.  Mr.  Wesley  thus 
records  his  impressions  of  the  young  Doctor  of 
Law :  "I  had  much  conversation  with  him,  and 
a  union  then  began  which,  I  trust,  shall  never 
end." 

The  zealous  curate  soon  experienced  the 
brunt  of  persecution.  The  sentence  of  his  ex- 
pulsion from  the  parish  church  was  abruptly 
announced  at  the  close  of  the  morning  service 
in  the  presence  of  the  congregation.  By  a  pre- 
concerted scheme,  as  he  passed  out  of  the  door 
the  bells  rang  out  a  dissonant  peal — a  sort  of 
ecclesiastical  "rogue's  march" — by  way  of 
valediction  to  the  expelled  pastor.  Cider  bar- 
rels were  broached,  and  a  general  rejoicing  at 
his  expulsion  took  place.  To  a  man  of  his 
keen  sensitiveness  and  churchly  sympathies  the 
indignity  must  have  been  poignant  in  the  ex- 
treme. 

But  the  expelled  pastor  could  not  be  restrained 
from  proclaiming  the  message  of  salvation. 
The  next  Sunday  he  preached  in  the  street  near 
the  church,  immediately  after  the  morning  serv- 
ice, and  announced  that  he  would  preach  again 
the  following  Sunday.  He  was  warned  that  it 
would  be  at  the  peril  of  his  life  if  he  did.  ' '  To 
render   these  menaces   more  significant,"  says 

222 


Dk.  Coke,  Father  of  Methodist  Missions 

his  biographer,  "sundry  hampers  of  stones 
were  brought  to  the  spot,  like  a  park  of  artillery 
drawn  up  on  a  field  marked  out  for  battle." 

But  the  little  doctor,  with  that  heroic  courage 
which  characterized  him  to  the  end  of  his  life, 
was  not  to  be  daunted  by  brute  force.  He  was 
sustained,  also,  by  the  presence  of  friends,  who 
stood  by  him  in  this  hour  of  peril.  Among 
these  were  a  Miss  Edmunds  and  her  brother, 
whose  hearts  had  been  touched  by  the  earnest 
preaching  of  the  persecuted  pastor.  The  brave 
eirl  stood  on  one  side  of  him  and  the  brother 
on  the  other.  Their  undaunted  bearing  cowed 
the  craven  spirits  of  the  mob,  who  shrank  from 
their  intended  assault  and  possible  murder; 
and,  like  Paul  before  Felix,  the  feeble  unarmed 
man  spoke  words  of  power  which  made  his  per- 
secutors tremble. 

Notwithstanding  this  rude  initiation  into  his 
life  work,  Dr.  Coke  not  for  a  moment  hesitated 
in  his  purpose.  He  resolved  to  cast  in  his  lot 
with  the  despised  and  persecuted  ]\Iethodists 
and  to  espouse  the  toils  and  hardships  of  an 
itinerant  preacher.  He  therefore,  in  1777, 
made  application  to  Mr.  Wesley  for  admission 
to  the  Conference.  That  judicious  man  did  not 
at  once  grant  his  request,  but  gave  him  time  for 
consideration,  while  he  made  him  the  compan- 
ion of  his  journeys  and  the  sharer  of  his  labors. 

223 


Makers  of  Methodism 

Dr.  Coke  visited  the  Bristol  Conference,  and 
his  desire  to  be  numbered  with  those  godly 
men  in  the  work  of  spreading  "  scriptural  holi- 
ness" throughout  the  land  became  more  in- 
tense. Wesley  yielded  to  his  wish,  and  wrote 
in  his  Journal :  "I  went  to  Taunton  with  Dr. 
Coke,  who  has  bidden  adieu  to  his  honorable 
name  and  determined  to  cast  in  his  lot  with 
us." 

He  was  soon  preaching  in  the  old  Foundry, 
London,  at  Seven  Dials,  and  to  immense  multi- 
tudes of  eager  listeners  in  the  public  squares. 
Providence  was  opening  for  him  a  wider  career 
than  addressing  a  few  rustics  in  an  obscure 
hamlet.  He  was  soon  to  become  a  mighty  mis- 
sionary organizer,  whose  influence  was  to  be 
felt  on  earth's  remotest  shores  and  to  the  end  of 
time. 

Wesley  was  now  bowed  beneath  the  weight 
of  eight}^  years.  The  care  of  all  the  churches 
and  his  vast  correspondence  was  a  burden  which 
he  gladly  shared  with  this  energetic  son  in  the 
Gospel,  now  in  the  vigor  of  his  thirtieth  year. 
He  used  to  say  that  Dr.  Coke  was  his  right  hand. 

The  zealous  preaching  of  the  young  evangel- 
ist often  provoked  the  attacks  of  mobs.  As  he 
stood  in  the  public  square  of  Ramsbury,  Wilt- 
shire, he  was  assailed  with  sticks  and  stones, 

and  his  gown  torn  to  shreds.     The  vicar  of  the 

224 


Dr.  Coke,  Father  of  Methodist  Missions 

parish,  who  headed  the  riot,  bethought  him  of 
a  more  ingenious  expedient.  "  Bring  out  tlic 
fire  engines!"  he  shouted  ;  and  the  preaeherand 
eongregation  were  soon  dispersed  by  a  few 
volleys  of  "  liquid  artillery."  It  was  notieed,  as 
a  remarkable  eoincidenee,  that  within  a  fort- 
night that  very  engine  proved  powerless  to  sup- 
press a  fire  which  destroyed  a  great  part  of  the 
village. 

In  the  course  of  his  itinerations  Dr.  Coke  re- 
visited his  former  parish,  from  which  he  had 
been  heartlessly  expelled.  The  simple  rustics 
found  that  they  had  lost  their  best  friend,  and 
welcomed  him  back  with  joy.  The  bells  that 
rang  him  out  chimed  merrily  at  his  return.  He 
preached  to  two  thousand  people,  who  flocked 
to  hear  him  from  all  the  neighboring  villages, 
and  wept  over  them  as  the  Saviour  wept  over 
Jerusalem.  From  that  day  the  despised  Meth- 
odists had  a  foothold  in  the  parish,  and  soon 
after  the  doctor  had  the  pleasure  of  building  a 
Methodist  chapel  where  he  had  been  cast  out  of 
the  Established  Church. 

In  his  somewhat  impulsive  zeal  Dr.  Coke  ar- 
raigned Joseph  Benson  and  Samuel  Bradburn, 
first  by  correspondence  and  then  before  the  Con- 
ference, for  a  presumed  tinge  of  Arian  heresy. 
Their  orthodoxy  being  vindicated,  the    doctor 

asked  permission  to  beg  pardon  publicly  for  his 

225 


Makers  of  Methodism 

offense,  and  thus  make  public  amends  for  the 
wrong  he  had  done. 

In  the  celebrated  Deed  of  Declaration  Mr. 
Wesley  vested  in  the  "  Legal  Hundred  "  all  the 
authority  of  the  Connection.  Dr.  Coke  was  ac- 
cused of  influencing  the  choice  of  this  "  centu- 
rion band."  Mr.  Wesley,  however,  completely 
exculpated  him  by  the  laconic  defense,  ''  Non 
Tult,  noil  pot  nit — he  would  not  if  he  could,  he 
could  not  if  he  would  " — and  assumed  the  per- 
sonal responsibility  of  the  choice. 

Dr.  Coke  was  soon  to  enter  on  what  might  be 
called  his  foreign  missionary  work.  On  the  sec- 
ond day  of  September,  1784,  John  Wesley,  feel- 
ing himself  providentially  called  of  God  thereto, 
solemnly  set  apart  by  imposition  of  hands  Dr. 
Thomas  Coke  to  be  superintendent  of  the  Meth- 
odist societies  in  America.  Into  the  controvers}^ 
to  which  that  act  gave  rise  we  shall  not  enter. 
In  our  sketch  of  Francis  Asbury  we  have  given 
Mr.  Wesley's  own  account  of  the  transaction. 
vSuffice  it  to  say  that  the  extraordinary  develop- 
ment of  American  Methodism,  under  episcopal 
jurisdiction,  seems  a  providential  vindication  of 
his  procedure. 

In  three  weeks  Coke,  with  his  companions, 
Whatcoat  and  Vesey,  was  on  his  way  to  Amer- 
ica.    The  voyage  was  stormy  and  tedious,  but 

he  redeemed  the  time  by  study.     He  refreshed 

226 


Dr.  Coke,  Father  of  Methodist  Missions 

his  classic  lore  by  reading  Virgil  in  a  little  nook 
between  decks,  and  remarks  in  liis  Journal,  "  I 
can  say  in  a  much  better  sense  than  he — 

'  Deus  nobis  haec  otia  fecit, 

Nainque  erit  ille  mihi  semper  Deus.'  "  * 

He  labored  zealously  for  the  conversion  of  the 
sailors  on  shij^board,  and  believed  that  God  had 
given  him  at  least  one  soul  as  his  reward. 

"  I  want,"  he  wrote,  "the  wings  of  an  eagle 
and  the  voice  of  a  trumpet,  that  I  may  proclaim 
the  Gospel  through  the  east  and  the  w^est,  the 
north  and  the  south  " — a  proj^hec}-  of  his  future 
life  work. 

He  forthwith  began  ranging  through  the  con- 
tinent from  Massachusetts  to  Georgia,  a  true 
bishop  of  souls,  feeding  the  flock  scattered 
through  a  primeval  wilderness.  Not  unfre- 
quently  was  he  exposed  to  the  perils  of  fording 
swollen  rivers  or  crossing  rugged  mountains. 
Some  of  his  escapes  from  danger  were  very  nar- 
row. He  met  with  prejudice  and  opposition  in 
the  Western  wilds  as  well  as  in  an  English  parish, 
and  records  being  excluded  from  a  dilapidated 
church  to  which,  nevertheless,  cattle  and  hogs 
had  free  access. 

He  preferred  the  rugged  grandeur  of  the  Blue 


*  "  God  has  provided  for  us  these  hours  of  retirement,  and  he  shall  be  my  God 
forever." 

227 


Makers  of  Methodism 

Ridge  Mountains  to  any  part  of  America ;  it  was 
so  much  like  his  native  Wales.  He  bore  his 
testimony  boldly  against  the  sin  of  slavery,  and 
provoked  thereby  much  persecution.  One  lady 
offered  a  mob  i^5o  if  they  "would  give  the  little 
doctor  a  hundred  lashes."  Many  emancipated 
their  slaves,  but  others  became  more  virulent  in 
their  opposition.  In  company  with  Asbury  he 
visited  General  Washington  at  Mount  Vernon, 
to  seek  his  influence  in  favor  of  Negro  emanci- 
pation. But  their  Master's  business  requiring 
haste,  they  could  not  accept  an  invitation  to 
lodge  under  the  presidential  roof.  During  this 
seven-months'  visit  Dr.  Coke  greatly  consoli- 
dated and  vStrengthened  American  Methodism 
and  laid  the  foundation  of  Cokesbury  College, 
the  pioneer  of  its  grand  educational  system. 

The  importance  of  foreign  missions  was  not 
then  felt  in  the  Churches  of  Christendom.  When 
Carey,  at  a  meeting  of  ministers,  urged  the  duty 
of  giving  the  Gospel  to  the  heathen,  the  presi- 
dent exclaimed,  "Sit  down,  young  man;  sit 
down .  When  God  pleases  to  convert  the  heathen 
he  will  do  it  without  your  aid  or  mine." 

But  already  Coke  was  meditating  the  vast  mis- 
sionary enterprises  which  are  the  glory  of  the 
Methodist  Church.  He  opened  a  correspondence 
with  India  and  America,  and  visited  the  Channel 

Islands    as  a  key  to  missionary  operations  in 

228 


Dr.  Coke,  Father  of  Methodist  Missions 

France.  The  first  field  for  the  extension  of  the 
Gospel,  however,  that  seemed  indicated  by- 
Providence  was  Newfoundland,  Nova  Scotia, 
and  Canada.  Thither,  in  17C8,  Dr.  Coke  and 
three  fellow-preachers  were  sent  by  the  English 
Conference. 

The  voyage  lasted  thirteen  weeks,  and  was  al- 
most one  continued  tempest.  The  sails  were 
rent,  the  timbers  strained,  and,  half  a  wreck, 
the  vessel  sprung  a  leak,  and,  falling  on  her 
beam  ends,  threatened  instant  death  to  all  on 
board.  The  superstitious  captain,  attributing 
his  disasters  to  the  presence  of  the  blackcoats, 
exclaimed,  ' '  There  is  a  Jonah  on  board  ;  a  Jonah 
on  board !  "  Rushing  to  Dr.  Coke's  cabin,  he 
threw  into  the  sea  his  books  and  papers,  and, 
seizing  the  diminutive  doctor,  threatened  to 
throw  him  after  them  if  he  were  caught  praying 
again.  The  passengers  were  put  on  short  ra- 
tions, and,  worst  of  all,  the  doctor  thought,  the 
supply  of  candles  gave  out,  so  that  his  hours  of 
study  were  curtailed.  He  solaced  himself,  till  he 
lost  his  books,  with  reading  French,  Virgil,  and 
"every  day  a  canto  of  the  English  Virgil, 
Spenser."  "  With  such  company,"  he  contin- 
ues, "  I  could  live  comfortably  in  a  tub." 

The   project  of  reaching  Halifax  had   to  be 

abandoned,  and  running  before  the  storm,  they 

made,  on  Christmas  Day,  the  port  of  Antigua, 

229 


Makers  of  Methodism 

in  the  West  Indies.  It  was,  indeed,  a  happy 
day  for  the  sable  myriads  of  those  islands,  for  it 
brought  them  a  glad  evangel  of  redemption — of 
peace  on  earth  and  good  will  to  men.  As  Dr. 
Coke  walked  up  the  street  of  the  town  he  met  a 
ship  carpenter  and  local  preacher,  John  Baxter 
by  name,  who  had  under  his  care  a  Methodist 
society  of  nearly  two  thousand  souls,  all  blacks 
but  ten. 

How  came  this  native  church  in  this  far-off 
tropic  isle  ?  Twenty-eight  years  before  an  An- 
tigua planter,  Nathaniel  Gilbert,  heard  John 
Wesley  preach  at  Wandsworth,  in  England. 
The  good  seed  took  root  in  his  heart,  and  he 
brought  the  precious  germs  to  his  island  home, 
where  they  became  the  source  of  West  India 
Methodism.  This,  in  turn,  was  one  of  the  chief 
means  of  Negro  emancipation  and  the  beginning 
of  the  great  movement  of  African  evangeliza- 
tion. On  the  death  of  Nathaniel  Gilbert  a  pious 
shipwright  took  charge  of  the  native  church, 
which  eight  years  later  was  found  so  flourishing. 

Dr.  Coke  ranged  from  island  to  island,  sow- 
ing the  seed  of  the  kingdom  in  the  good  ground 
of  those  faithful  African  hearts.  On  every  side 
he  found  evidence  of  the  quickening  power  of 
the  leaven  of  Methodism  conveyed  by  strange 
means  to  those  scattered  islands — by  converted 

soldiers  or  sailors,  by  pious  freed  Negroes,  and  at 

230 


Dr.  Coke,  Father  of  Methodist  Missions 

St.  Eustatius  by  a  fugitive  slave,  whose  minis- 
try was  a  marvel  of  spiritual  success.  Under  the 
preaching-  of  the  black  apostle  many  of  his 
hearers  fell  down,  like  dead  men,  to  the  earth, 
and  multitudes  were  converted  from  their  fetich 
worship  to  an  intelligent  piety. 

The  Dutch  officials  of  the  island,  however, 
scourged  and  imprisoned  Black  Harry,  and 
passed  an  edict  inflicting  thirty-nine  lashes  on 
any  Negro  found  praying.  With  a  fidelity  worthy 
of  the  martyr  ages  these  sable  confessors  con- 
tinued steadfast  amid  these  cruel  persecutions. 
Dr.  Coke  subsequently  interceded  at  the  court 
of  Holland  for  the  religious  liberty  of  the  blacks, 
but,  for  the  time,  in  vain.  Yet  he  lived  to  see 
.St.  Eustatius  a  flourishing  Wesley  an  mission, 
and,  ten  years  after,  met  Black  Harry  a  freed 
and  happy  man. 

Again  and  again  the  indefatigable  evangelist 
revisited  those  sunny  islands,  which  seem  to 
have  possessed  a  strange  fascination  to  his  soul. 
And  well  they  might,  for  nowhere  has  mission- 
ary .success  been  more  glorious.  At  Barbadoes 
an  Irish  soldier  recognized  one  of  the  mission- 
aries as  his  old  pastor,  and,  in  a  transport  of  de- 
light, threw  his  arms  about  his  neck.  At  Ja- 
maica Dr.  Coke  received  some  insults  from  a 
number  of  drunken  "  gentlemen,"  but  persisted 

in  his  apostolic  labor  of  preaching  the  Gospel. 

231 


Makers  of  Methodism 

Persecution  here,  as  elsewhere,  fostered  the 
growth  of  the  Church.  The  chapel  was  attacked 
by  a  mob,  the  Bible  hanged  to  a  gibbet,  and  the 
Methodists  hooted  at  by  the  nickname  of  "  hal- 
lelujah" in  the  street.  In  Bermuda  John 
Stephenson,  for  preaching  the  Gospel  toNegroes, 
was  imprisoned  for  six  months  and  fined  ^50. 

vSoon  the  work  of  evangelization  was  extended 
to  Grenada,  Montserrat,  vSt.  Kitts,  Nevis,  the 
Bahamas,  the  Carib  Islands,  Hayti,  and  the 
Bermudas.  Amid  privations,  pestilence,  ship- 
wrecks, and  sometimes  bitter  persecution  the 
missionaries  toiled  on  till  a  free  Christian  civili- 
zation took  the  place  of  slavery,  superstition, 
cruelty,  and  barbarism.  As  a  result  of  the  work 
thus  inauspiciously  begun  Methodism  now  num- 
bers in  those  islands  over  a  score  of  mission- 
aries and  over  twenty  thousand  members. 

Dr.  Coke  was  in  America  wdien  he  heard  of 
the  death  of  John  Wesley.  Overwhelmed  with 
sorrow,  he  hastened  home  to  England.  He  was 
soon  associated  with  Henry  Moore  in  the  prepa- 
ration of  a  life  of  the  patriarch  of  Methodism. 
An  edition  of  ten  thousand  was  published,  and 
in  two  months  cleared  a  profit  of  ^1,700. 

The  French  Revolution  and  the  fall  of  the 
Bastile  inspired  a  hope  that  in  France  the  bar- 
riers to  the  Gospel  had  been  broken  down.    Dr. 

Coke  and  M.  De  Queteville,  a  Guernsey  Metho- 

232 


Dk.  Cuke,  Father  of  Methodist  Missions 

dist,  proceeded  to  Paris  to  open,  if  possible,  a 
mission.  In  that  city  of  amusements  and  pleas- 
ures, where,  as  one  of  its  own  wits  has  said, 
four  fifths  of  the  people  die  of  grief,*  they  could 
only  get  a  congregation  of  six  persons,  and  were 
warned  to  depart  or  they  would  be  hanged  on  a 
lamp-post.  They  felt  that  the  opportunity  for 
the  evangelization  of  France  had  not  yet  come. 

Dr.  Coke  had  been  requested  by  the  English 
Conference  to  prepare  a  commentary  on  the 
Holy  Scriptures.  On  his  fifth  voyage  to  x\mer- 
ica  he  devoted  himself  with  energy  to  the  task. 
' '  I  find  a  ship  a  most  convenient  place  for 
study,"  is  his  rather  exceptional  experience, 
"although,"  he  adds,  "it  is  sometimes  a  great 
exercise  for  my  feet,  legs,  and  arms  to  keep  my- 
self steady  to  write."  Proceeding  from  New 
York  to  St.  Eustatius,  in  company  with  the 
sainted  "Bishop"  Black,  of  Nova  Scotia,  he 
found  the  vessel  exceedingly  loathsome  from  the 
filthy  habits  of  the  crew,  yet  he  was  able,  he 
said,  to  become  a  contented  Hottentot,  and  the 
consolations  of  God  superabounded. 

He  found  the  Methodist  missionary  in  jail  for 
preaching  the  Gospel,  and  Negro  women  pub- 
licly flogged  for  attending  prayer  meeting.  The 
penalty    for    the  second    and    third    offense   of 


♦"Paris,  ville  d'amusemens,  des  plaisirs,  ou  les  qiiatre  cinquiemes  des  habi- 
tans  mourent  de  chagrin."— Chamfort,  Caracteres  et  Anecdotes. 


Makers  of  Methodism 

preaching  was  banishment  or  death,  but  the  im- 
prisoned missionary  still  preached  through  his 
grated  windows  to  the  Negroes  without,  who 
listened  with  tears  flowing  down  their  cheeks. 
The  doctor  might  well  denounce  these  cruel 
edicts  as  rivaling  those  of  the  pagan  emperors 
of  Rome.  He  zealously  interceded  with  the 
Dutch  and  English  governments  for  the  repeal 
of  these  infamous  laws,  and  eventually  with  suc- 
cess. 

In  Jamaica  he  preached  the  first  sermon  ever 
heard  in  the  town  of  Falmouth,  although  it  had 
for  years  a  parochial  clergyman,  with  a  hand- 
some stipend.  As  he  declared  the  necessity  of 
the  new  birth  a  sea  captain  exclaimed,  "  Sir,  if 
what  you  say  be  true,  we  must  all  be  damned.  I 
don't  like  your  doctrine  at  all,"  and  the  sermon 
was  continued  amid  tumult  and  confusion. 
While  on  his  return  to  England  Coke's  ship  was 
chased  by  a  French  privateer,  but  was  rescued 
by  the  appearance  of  Lord  Hood's  fleet. 

The  publication  of  Wilberforce's  evidence 
concerning  the  African  slave  trade  was  to  the 
heart  of  Dr.  Coke  an  apalling  revelation  of  the 
horrors  of  that  "sum  of  all  villanies."  He 
therefore,  in  his  yearning  pity  for  the  dark  con- 
tinent of  Africa,  projected  a  mission  colony  to 
that  unhappy  country,  then  seldom  sought  but 
for  purposes  of  cruelty  and  crime.    The  expedi- 

234 


Dr.  Coke,  Father  of  Methodist  Missions 

tion  sailed  for  Sierra  Leone  in  1796,  but,  al- 
though the  pioneer  of  successful  missions,  it  was 
itself  a  failure. 

The  same  year  he  again  embarked  to  attend 
the  General  Conference  at  Baltimore.  Travel- 
ing nowadays  has  lost  much  of  the  adventure  and 
peril  and  discomfort  it  had  in  the  last  century. 
Dr.  Coke  describes  the  ship  as  a  "  floating  hell," 
and  his  ill-treatment  by  the  captain  as  too  in- 
famous to  describe.  He  believed  that  the  tyrant 
wished  to  cause  his  death  out  of  hatred  to  Meth- 
odism. With  a  single  shirt  in  his  pocket,  and 
refused  the  request  for  a  little  bread  and  pork, 
although  he  had  paid  eighteen  guineas  for  his 
passage,  Dr.  Coke  left  the  vessel  in  Chesapeake 
Bay  in  a  small  schooner,  on  whose  bare  deck  he 
slept  all  night. 

With  much  privation  and  vexatious  delays, 
traveling  by  boat,  on  horseback,  or  on  foot,  he 
reached  Baltimore  just  in  time  for  the  Confer- 
ence. On  the  way  he  was  joined  by  a  Metho- 
dist preacher  from  beyond  the  Alleghanies,  who 
had  been  lost  for  sixteen  days  in  crossing  the 
mountains.  His  horse  had  perished,  and  he 
himself  had  nearly  died  of  hunger.  Such  were 
some  of  the  episodes  of  the  itinerancy  a  century 
ago. 

On  Coke's  succeeding  voyage  the  vessel  was 
captured  by  a  French  privateer  and  confiscated, 

235 


Makers  of  Methodism 

with  all  the  doctor's  baggage  except  his  private 
papers.  He  was  landed  at  Porto  Rico  with 
scarcely  raiment  enough  for  his  personal  neces- 
sities, but  escaped  the  horrors  of  a  French 
prison,  and  at  length  found  his  way  to  Confer- 
ence "on  a  borrowed  horse,  with  a  great  boy 
riding  behind  him." 

Durine  the  terrible  insurrection  of   1798  in 
Ireland  Dr.  Coke  was  in  that  distracted  country, 
frequently  exposed  to  personal  peril,  but  provi- 
dentially   protected.     It  was  a  Methodist  class 
leader  in  Dublin  who  gave  warning  of  the  out- 
break, and  thus  saved  the  capital  from  capture 
and  pillage  by  the  insurgents.     The  horrors  of 
this  civil  war,  for  such  it  was,  can  never  be  fully 
recorded.      A    French  invasion   was  invited  by 
the  rebels  and  attempted  under  General  Hum- 
bert.     Beacon  lights  flashed  the  signal  of  the 
rising  from  peak  to  peak.     The  houses  of  many 
Protestants  were    burned,  their  cattle  harried, 
and  multitudes  of  noncombatant  men,  women, 
and  children  were  cruelly  massacred.      Bands  of 
armed    ruffians,    maddened    with    whisky    and 
fanaticism,    ravaged  the   country  with  fire  and 
sword.   Thirty-seven  thousand  of  the  marauders 
encamped   near   Ross,  and   the   next  day  seven 
thousand  were  slain  in  a  conflict  with  the  king's 
troops. 

The     Methodists,     especially    the     itinerant 

236 


Dr.  Coke,  Father  of  Methodist  Missions 

preachers,  were,  f(ir  their  loyalt}',  particularly 
obnoxious  to  the  rebels,  and  several  were  cruelly 
piked  with  aggravated  barbarity.  During  this 
reign  of  terror  the  Irish  Conference  met,  through 
the  influence  of  Dr.  Coke  with  the  lord  lieu- 
tenant, in  the  city  of  Dublin.  "  O  God,  shorten 
the  day  of  our  calamity,"  he  wrote,  "or  no 
flesh  can  be  saved."  With  the  magnanimity  of 
a  Gospel  revenge  that  very  Conference  set  apart 
Charles  Graham  and  James  McQuigg  as  Irish 
evangelists,  who,  subsequently  joined  by  Gideon 
Ouseley,  preached  and  prayed  and  sang  the  Gos- 
pel in  the  Irish  tongue  into  the  hearts  of  thou- 
sands of  their  fellow-countrymen.  Dr.  Coke  it 
was  who  proposed  the  measure,  pledged  its  pe- 
cuniary support,  and  obtained  for  the  mission- 
aries the  protection  of  the  military  authorities. 

Soon  after  he  organized  the  missions  among 
his  Welsh  fellow-countrymen,  and  had  the  hap- 
piness of  seeing  multitudes  thereby  brought  to 
a  knowledge  of  the  truth.  Two  years  later  he 
formed  a  plan  for  the  home  missions  which  have 
carried  Methodism  to  the  remotest  hamlets  of 
the  island,  and  eight  men  were  designated  to 
destitute  parts  of  England  unreached  by  the 
reeular  circuits. 

Two  continents  Avere  now  contending  in 
friendly  rivalry  for  the  services  of  this  modern 
apostle.      Alternately  -[^resident  of  the  English 


IG 


Makers  of  Methodism 

and  of  the  American  Conference,  his  presence 
seemed  so  manifestly  needed  in  both  countries 
that  he  was  continually  crossing  the  ocean  on 
his  missionary  voyages,  as  if  either  hemisphere 
were  too  narrow  for  his  energies.  At  last  the 
American  General  Conference  of  1800  3'ielded 
to  the  request  of  the  British  Conference  to  allow 
Dr.  Coke  to  remain  in  England. 

"  We  have,  in  compliance  with  your  request," 
it  wrote,  "  lent  the  doctor  to  you  for  a  season, 
to  return  to  us  as  soon  as  he  conveniently  can, 
but  at  furthest  by  the  meeting  of  the  next 
General  Conference."  Only  once  more  was  he 
permitted  to  visit  his  American  brethren,  to 
whom  he  was  endeared  by  most  sacred  ties, 
and  who  mourned  his  death  as  that  of  the 
"greatest  man  of  the  eighteenth  century." 

Amid  the  many  wanderings  of  his  active  life 
Dr.  Coke  found  leisure  for  much  literary  work, 
as  even  the  busiest  may  do  if  he  will  only  im- 
prove his  spare  hours — the  Jiorce  subseciv(B  which 
many  think  not  worth  saving.  Among  his 
useful  writings  are  his  History  of  the  West  Indies, 
in  three  volumes,  octavo ;  five  volumes  of  records 
of  his  missionary  journeys ;  a  history  of  philos- 
ophy, and  numerous  occasional  pamphlets,  ser- 
mons, and  the  like. 

His  great  work,  however,  was  his  Cotnineiitary 
on  the  Scriptures,  begun  by  request  of  the  British 


Dr.  Coki:,  Father  of  Methodisi'  Missioxs 

Conference  in  1798,  and  finished,  after  nine 
years*  labor,  in  1807.  It  reached  the  somewhat 
portentous  size  of  six  quarto  volumes,  splendidly 
printed  on  the  University  Press.  The  book, 
however,  was  not  a  success.  It  was  probably 
too  costly  for  the  times,  and  was  superseded  by 
the  more  popular  work  of  Dr.  Adam  Clarke. 
Disappointed  at  its  failure,  he  offered  the  entire 
edition,  worth  at  trade  price  i!"  10,000,  to  the 
Conference  for  ;i^3,ooo.  This  offer  was  accepted, 
and  he  bade  farewell  to  literature  for  the  more 
congenial  field  of  missionary  toil. 

With  zeal  redoubled  as  the  years  fled  by,  he 
traversed  Great  Britain  from  end  to  end  on  be- 
half of  his  Irish,  Welsh,  and  home  mission  en- 
terprises. He  threw  himself  with  vigor  into 
the  then  novel  work  of  promoting  Sunday 
schools  and  the  temperance  reform.  The  spir- 
itual necessities  of  the  soldiers  and  sailors  of 
Great  Britain — of  whose  trials  and  temptations, 
virtues  and  vices,  he  had  seen  so  much  dur- 
ing his  wanderings — lay  like  a  burden  on  his 
heart. 

At  length,  in  1804,  a  ^lethodist  missionary 
and  his  wife  were  sent  to  the  Rock  of  Gibraltar. 
They  were  well-nigh  wrecked  in  the  Bay  of 
Biscay  and  driven  to  the  Barbary  coast.  Reach- 
ing at  last  their  destination,  it  yielded  them  only 
the  asylum  of  a  grave  ;   5'ellow  fever  wasted  the 

239 


Makers  of  Methodism 

little  community,  and  the  missionary  and  his 
wife  soon  fell  victims  to  its  power.  An  infant 
daughter  survived,  who,  adopted  into  the  fam- 
ily of  Dr.  Adam  Clarke,  became  the  wife  of  a 
Methodist  minister  and  the  mother  of  the  dis- 
tinguished Dr.  James  H.  Rigg,  twice  president 
of  the  Wesleyan  Conference.  But  the  historic 
rock  was  not  abandoned ;  and  a  succession  of 
faithful  missionaries  have  ministered  to  the 
wants,  temporal  and  spiritual,  of  multitudes  of 
England's  redcoats  quartered  at  Gibraltar. 

The  unhappy  condition  of  the  French  sailors 
and  soldiers  pent  up  in  the  prison-ships  of  the 
great  naval  depots  also  appealed  strongly  to  that 
loving  heart  whose  sympathies  were  as  wide  as 
the  world.  In  the  Med  way  alone  was  a  prison 
population  of  two  thousand,  and  altogether  in 
England  not  less  than  sixty  thousand  crowded 
into  unventilated  and  often  infected  ships. 
Sometimes  the  friendless,  hopeless,  and  often 
half-naked  wretches  sought  escape  from  their 
despondency  by  suicide. 

The    Rev.     William    Toase,    the    father    of 

French   Methodist  missions,   gained   admission 

to  the  hulk  Glory,  and  preached  to  the  prisoners 

in    their    own    language   till   forbidden   by    the 

commissary.      Dr.  Coke  thereupon  appealed   to 

the  Earl  of  Liverpool  and  obtained  permission 

to  have  preaching  at  all  the  naval  stations,  with 

240 


Dr.  Coke,  Father  of  Methodist  Missions 

characteristic  generosity  meeting  the  enlarged 
expenditure  himself. 

Through  this  exhibition  of  love  to  enemies 
many  French  prisoners — some  of  noble  rank — 
carried  back  to  their  native  land  not  only  kindly 
recollections  of  their  "hereditary  foe,"  but 
Christian  fellowship  in  that  kingdom  which  em- 
braces all  races  of  men.  William  Toase  had  also 
the  honor  of  planting  in  France  that  ]\Iethodist 
Church  which  has  survived  the  overthrow  of 
successive  dynasties  and  is  contributing  greatly 
to  the  moral  regeneration  of  that  lovely  land. 

At  length  Dr.  Coke  was  permitted  to  see  the 
successful  inauguration  of  an  African  mission — 
the  precursor  of  subsequent  moral  victories 
among  the  Kaffirs,  Hottentots,  Fingoes,  Bechu- 
anas,  Zulus,  and  other  tribes  of  the  Dark  Conti- 
nent. On  the  abolition  of  the  slave  trade  Eng- 
land established  in  Sierra  Leone  the  colony  of 
Freetown  as  an  asylum  for  stolen  Negroes 
rescued  from  recaptured  slave  ships.  Hither, 
in  1811,  four  volunteer  missionaries  were  sent. 
Notwithstanding  the  more  than  decimation  of 
the  missionary  ranks  by  the  deadly  climate,  the 
work  has  been  maintained  till  in  thirty  chapels 
assemble  more  than  twenty  thousand  native 
Methodists  who  have  abandoned  their  vile 
fetich  ism  for  a  pure  spiritual  worship,  and  five 

thousand  children  crowd  the  mission  schools. 

241 


Makers  of  Methodism 

We  now  approach  a  romantic  episode  in  the 
already  venerable  missionary's  history.  The 
flower  of  love,  like  the  night-blooming  cereus, 
blossomed  late  in  his  life ;  but  its  beauty  and 
fragrance  were  all  the  more  grateful  to  his 
lonely  heart.  He  Avas  in  his  fifty-eighth  year. 
His  brow  was  bronzed  by  eighteen  transatlantic 
voyages  and  by  sojourn  beneath  the  tropic  sun, 
and  his  once  raven  hair  was  silvered  by  time. 
In  his  busy  life  he  had  never  found  leisure  for 
courtship  and  marriage.  But  now,  in  its  quiet 
eventide,  he  found  the  solace  of  communion 
with  a  kindred  spirit  in  the  tenderest  and  most 
sacred  of  earthly  relationships. 

The  growing  claims  of  the  vast  and  increas- 
ing missionary  enterprises  of  the  Church  called 
for  active  efforts  for  their  siipport.  Dr.  Coke 
not  only  exhausted  his  own  large  patrimony  in 
their  aid,  but  "toiled,"  says  his  biographer, 
"  from  day  to  day  like  a  common  mendicant." 
While  at  Bristol  on  a  begging  tour  he  was  in- 
troduced to  a  Methodist  lady  of  large  fortune, 
who  .subscribed  for  his  mission  two  hundred 
guineas.  The  generous  gift  led  to  an  acquaint- 
ance which  in  time  resulted  in  the  union  of 
their  hearts  and  lives  and  fortunes  and  interests 
for  the  glory  of  God  and  the  salvation  of  souls. 
"Unto  thee,    O   God,"  wrote  the  lady  on  her 

wedding  day,    * '  we  give  up  our  whole  lives — 

242 


Dr.  Coke,  Father  of  Methodist  Missions 

all  we  have  and  all  we  are — to  thee  wholly  and 
entirely." 

But  marriage  made  no  change  in  the  soul- 
absorbing  pursuits  of  the  zealous  missionary  or- 
ganizer. He  seemed  to  feel  that  the  time  was 
short,  and  it  remained  that  they  that  have 
wives  be  as  though  they  had  none.  He  contin- 
ued to  travel,  preach,  write,  and  beg  with  unin- 
termitting  energy.  His  devoted  helpmate  was 
not  long  permitted  to  aid  with  her  love,  her 
sympathy,  and  her  fortune  her  noble  husband. 
After  six  years  of  married  life  he  was  again  left 
alone  in  the  world. 

His  heart,  sore  stricken  by  her  loss,  having 
tasted  the  solace  of  domestic  happiness,  again 
sought  an  aftermath  of  joy  in  a  second  marriage. 
But  in  a  few  days  from  the  anniversary  of  the 
wedding  day  he  was  again  left  solitary. 

"With  the  presage,"  writes  his  biographer, 
"that  these  bereavements  had  been  designed 
to  leave  him  the  more  untrammeled  for  the 
tasks  that  might  remain,  he  dedicated  himself 
afresh  to  God  alone.  Henceforth  he  would 
think,  preach,  write,  labor,  and  pray  more  fully 
than  ever  for  one  object — the  extension  of 
Christ's  kingdom  among  men." 

And  faithfully  he  performed  his  vow.  He 
was  now  about  to  inaugurate  his  last  and  great- 
est missionary  enterprise.     For  many  years  the 

243 


Makers  of  Methodism 

spiritual  destitution  of  India  had  lain  heavy  on 
his  heart.  On  the  banks  of  the  Indus,  where 
the  foot  of  an  Alexander  had  faltered,  a  mer- 
chant's clerk  had  conquered  an  empire.  With 
three  thousand  troops  on  the  plain  of  Plassey 
Clive  had  routed  an  army  of  sixty  thousand, 
with  the  loss  of  only  two  and  twenty  men,  and 
laid  the  foundations  of  Britain's  Indian  empire 
of  two  hundred  and  fifty  million  souls. 

Though  open  to  English  commerce,  India,  by 
the  decree  of  tiie  company,  was  closed  to  Christ's 
Gospel.  But  India  still  ' '  cleaved  "  to  his  heart ; 
he  could  "  give  up  all  for  India."  Parliament, 
wrote  Wilberforce,  was  especially  "set  against 
granting  any  countenance  to  dissenters  or  Meth- 
odists in  favor  of  sending  missionaries  to  India." 
Dr.  Coke,  therefore,  rather  than  fail  in  his 
long-cherished  purpose,  was  willing  to  go  in 
his  character  a  sa  clergvman  of  the  Established 
Church  and  as  such  offered  his  services. 

For  this  he  has  been  censured,  as  if  self- 
seeking  and  ambitious  and  disloyal  to  the 
Church  in  whose  service  he  had  spent  forty 
years  of  his  life.  The  prudence  of  his  course 
may  well  be  questioned.  Of  a  hallowed  am- 
bition for  the  salvation  of  souls  he  is  certainly 
gloriously  convicted,  but  of  sordid  self-seeking 
he  was  absolutely  incapable.    "  He  was  already," 

writes    Dr.    Stevens,    ' '  wielding   an    episcopal 

244 


Dk.  Coke,  Father  of  IMethodist  IMissions 

power  compared  with  which  an  Indian  see 
would  be  insignificant."  Salary  he  sought  not, 
only  permission  to  spend  and  be  spent  for  India. 

The  proposition,  however,  was  not  accepted. 
But  Dr.  Coke's  faith  and  zeal  and  courage  were 
not  to  be  overcome.  Ceylon,  "the  threshold 
before  the  gate  of  the  East,"  was  more  access- 
ible than  India,  and  thither  he  was  determined, 
by  God's  grace,  to  go.  Friends  remonstrated 
against  a  man  in  his  sixty-sixth  year,  worn 
with  toil  and  heavy  cares,  braving  the  perils  of 
a  long  sea  voyage  and  residence  in  the  torrid 
zone  ;   but  it  was  in  vain. 

"  I  am  now  dead  to  Europe,"  he  wrote,  "  and 
alive  to  India.  God  himself  has  said  to  me, 
'  Go  to  Ceylon,'  I  am  so  fully  convinced  of  the 
will  of  God  that  methinks  I  had  rather  be  set 
naked  on  the  coast  of  Ceylon  and  without  a 
friend  than  not  go  there.  I  shall  bear  all  my 
own  expenses,  of  course,"  he  adds. 

He  eagerly  began  the  study  of  Portuguese, 
which  was  largely  spoken  in  Ceylon ;  a  study 
which  he  subsequently  prosecuted  on  shipboard 
to  the  day  of  his  death.  The  letter  just  quoted 
was  written  from  Ireland,  and  he  sought  first 
the  sanction  of  the  Irish  Conference  to  his  pur- 
pose. Revering  him  as  an  apostle,-  and  almost 
as  the  father  of  Irish  Methodism,  it  supported 

with    enthusiasm    his    project.     Fired    by    his 

245 


Makers  of  Methodism 

example,  Gideon  Ouseley  begged,  with  tears,  to 
be  allowed  to  accompany  him,  but  his  provi- 
dential work  was  too  manifestly  at  home  for 
the  Conference  to  grant  its  permission. 

Dr.  Coke  now  sought  the  sanction  of  the 
English  Conference.  Unmoved  by  their  fears 
for  his  health,  he  declared  that  "  their  consent, 
he  believed,  would  add  years  to  his  life,  while 
their  refusal  would  infallibly  shorten  his  days." 
"  Many  rose  to  oppose  it."  We  quote  the  nar- 
rative of  Dr.  Stevens:  "Benson,  with  vehe- 
mence, said  it  would  '  ruin  Methodism,'  for  the 
failure  of  so  gigantic  a  project  would  seem  to 
involve  the  honor  of  the  denomination  before 
the  world. 

"  The  debate  was  adjourned  to  the  next  day. 
Coke,  leaning  on  the  arm  of  one  of  his  mission- 
aries, returned  to  his  lodgings  in  deep  anguish, 
the  tears  flowing  down  his  face  in  the  streets. 
He  was  not  at  the  antebreakfast  session  the 
next  day.  The  missionary  hastened  to  his 
chamber  and  found  that  he  had  not  been  in 
bed ;  his  disheveled  silvery  locks  showed  that 
he  had  passed  the  night  in  deep  distress.  He 
had  spent  the  hours  in  prayer,  prostrate  on  the 
floor.  They  went  to  the  Conference  and  Coke 
made  a  thrilling  speech.  He  not  only  offered 
to  lay  himself  on  the  altar  of  this  great  sacrifice, 

but,  if  the  Conference  could  not  meet  the  finan- 

246 


Dr.  Coke,  Father  of  Meiiu^dk-jT  Missions 

cial   expense   of  the  mission,  he  offered  to  lay 
down  thirty  thousand  dollars  toward  it.   .   .   . 

"  The  Conference  could  not  resist  lonofer 
without  denying-  its  old  faith  in  the  providence 
of  God.  It  voted  him  authority  to  go  and  take 
with  him  seven  men,  including  the  one  for 
southern  Africa.  Coke  immediately  called  out 
from  the  session  Clough,  the  missionary  who 
had  sympathized  with  him  in  his  defeat  the  day 
before,  and  walking  down  the  street,  not  now 
with  tears,  but  with  joy  beaming  in  his  eye, 
and  with  a  full  heart,  exclaimed,  '  Did  I  not 
tell  you  God  would  answer  prayer? '  " 

Among  the  missionaries  who  accompanied 
him  was  William  Martin  Harvard,  who,  after 
five  years'  residence  in  India  and  Ceylon,  be- 
came subsequently  superintendent  of  Missions 
in  Canada,  residing  for  ten  years  at  Montreal, 
Quebec,  Toronto,  and  other  important  centers 
of  influence. 

Soon  the  missionary  band  assembled  at  Ports- 
mouth for  embarkation.  Dr.  Coke  made  his 
will  and  bequeathed  all  his  property  to  the  fund 
for  aged  and  worn-out  ministers.  The  Sunday 
before  sailing  he  preached  his  last  sermon  in 
England,  from  the  text,  "  Ethiopia  shall  soon 
stretch  out  her  hands  unto  God."  With  pro- 
phetic faith  he  exclaims,  "  It  is  of  little  conse- 
quence whether  we  take  our  flight  to  glory  from 

247 


Makers  of  Methodism 

the  land  of  our  nativity,  from  the  trackless  ocean, 
or  from  the  shores  of  Ceylon. 

"  '  I  cannot  go 
Where  universal  Love  not  shines  around  ; 
And  where  he  vital  breathes  there  must  he  joy.'  " 

Like  these  are  the  exultant  words  of  the  monk 
Jerome,  in  the  fourth  century:  "  Et  de  Hier- 
osolymis  et  de  Britannia  sequaliter  patet  aula 
coelestis,"  thus  paraphrased  by  Horatius  Bonar: 

"  Not  from  Jerusalem  alone 
The  path  to  heaven  ascends  : 

As  near,  as  sure,  as  straight  the  way 
That  leads  to  the  celestial  day 
From  farthest  climes  extends — 
Frigid  or  torrid  zone." 

"  On  the  30th  of  December,  181 3,"  continues 
the  narrative  of  Dr.  Stevens,  ' '  they  departed 
in  a  fleet  of  six  Indiamen  and  more  than  twenty 
other  merchant  vessels,  convoyed  by  three  ships 
of  war.  Coke  and  two  of  the  missionaries  were 
on  board  one  of  the  Indiamen,  and  the  re.st  of 
the  party  on  board  another.  All  were  treated 
with  marked  respect  by  the  officers  and  the  hun- 
dreds of  troops  and  other  passengers  who 
crowded  the  vessels.  In  about  a  week  a  terrific 
gale  overtook  them  in  the  Bay  of  Biscay,  and  a 
ship  full  of  people,  in  which  Coke  had  at  first 
designed  to  embark,  was  lost. 

*'  Severe  gales  still    swept  over  them,   espe- 

248 


Dr.  Coke,  .Father  of  Methodist  Missions 

cially  at  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope.  vSeveral  sailors 
were  lost  overboard,  and  the  missionaries  suf- 
fered much  in  their  health.  ...  In  the  Indian 
Ocean  Coke's  health  rapidly  declined.  On  the 
morning  of  the  3d  of  May  his  servant  knocked 
at  his  cabin  door  to  awake  him  at  the  usual  time 
of  half-past  five  o'clock.  He  heard  no  response. 
Opening  the  door,  he  beheld  the  lifeless  body  of 
the  missionary  extended  on  the  floor.  A  '  placid 
smile  was  on  his  countenance.'  He  was  cold 
and  stiff,  and  must  have  died  before  midnight. 

"  Consternation  spread  among  the  missionary 
band,  but  they  lost  not  their  resolution.  They 
prepared  to  commit  his  body  to  the  deep,  and 
to  prosecute,  as  they  might  be  able,  his  great 
design.  One  of  the  missionaries  read  the  burial 
service,  and  the  moment  the  sun  sunk  below  the 
Indian  Ocean  the  coffin  was  cast  into  the  depths." 

In  his  last  letter,  written  a  few  days  before 
his  death.  Coke  earnestly  asks  for  additional  mis- 
sionaries, sketches  his  work  in  Ceylon  and  India, 
and  anticipates  tracing  the  work  of  "  that  holy 
and  celebrated  man,  Francis  Xavier." 

The  missionaries  with  heavy  hearts  proceeded 

on  their  journe5^  and  after  a  vo3^age  of  twenty 

weeks  reached  Bombay.      But  God  raised   them 

up  friends  and  opened   the  way  before   them. 

On  reaching  Ceylon  they  were  hospitably  lodged 

in  the  government  house.     Lord  Molesworth, 

249 


Makers  of  Methodism 

the  commandant,  who,  with  his  troops,  attended 
the  first  service,  was  so  deeply  impressed  by  the 
sermon  that  he  left  a  dinner  party  to  kneel  in 
prayer  with  the  missionaries  till  he  found  peace 
in  believing.  Soon  after,  returning  to  England, 
his  ship  was  lost  with  all  on  board  save  two  or 
three.  While  it  was  sinking  he  walked  the 
deck,  pointing  the  terrified  passengers  to  the 
Saviour  of  men.  Embracing  Lady  Moles  worth, 
they  sank  into  the  waves,  locked  in  each  others' 
arms,  and  thus  folded  together  they  were  washed 
ashore.  Such  were  the  first  fruits  of  the  Meth- 
odist Mission  in  Ceylon. 

Another  trophy  of  that  first  sermon  became 
the  first  native  missionary  to  Asia.  Many  of 
the  priests  also  believed.  One  of  these  intro- 
duced Mr.  Harvard,  afterward  Canadian  super- 
intendent, into  a  temple  where,  in  front  of  a 
great  idol,  he  preached  from  the  text,  "We 
know  that  an  idol  is  nothing  in  the  world,  and 
that  there  is  none  other  God  but  one."  The 
good  work  rapidly  spread,  till  there  are  in  Ceylon 
sixty  missionaries  and  assistants,  one  hundred 
and  twenty  preaching  places,  and  over  three 
thousand  church  members. 

The  death  of  Dr.  Coke  was  the  beginning  of 
a  new  era  in  the  history  of  Methodist  Missions. 
All  the  branches  of  Methodism  have  their  mis- 
sionary societies,  which  have  become  the  most 

250 


Dr.  Coke,  Father  of  Methodist  Missions 

vigorous  propaganda  in  the  world  of  the  Chris- 
tian religion  among  the  heathen.  In  Ceylon,  in 
India,  in  China,  in  Japan,  in  South  and  West 
Africa,  in  the  West  Indies,  in  South  America, 
in  continental  Europe,  in  Australia  and  Poly- 
nesia, multitudes  of  sunken  and  superstitious 
pagans  have  been  raised  from  abject  depths  of 
degradation  to  the  dignity  of  men  and  prepared 
for  the  fellowship  of  saints.  And  this  glorious 
result  is  in  large  part  the  monument  and  me- 
morial  of  the  life  and  labors  of   Dr.    Thomas 

Coke,  the  father  of  Methodist  Missions. 

251 


Makers  of  Methodism 


XII 

Francis  Asbury,  the  Pioneer  Bishop  of  America 

"Whosoever  will  be  great  among  you,  let 
him  be  your  minister;  and  whosoever  will  be 
chief  among  you,  let  him  be  your  servant." 
Such  were  the  words  with  which  the  Son  of 
man,  who  came  not  to  be  ministered  unto,  but 
to  minister,  rebuked  the  worldly  ambition  and 
self-seeking  of  his  disciples.  The  sovereign 
pontiffs  of  Rome,  who,  surrounded  by  halber- 
diers, received  the  homage  of  princes,  subscribed 
themselves,  even  in  their  most  imperious  edicts, 
"  Servus  servorum  Dei  "  (the  servant  of  the  serv- 
ants of  God),  These  words,  which  only  in  the 
keenest  irony  could  be  addressed  to  those  spir- 
itual potentates,  describe  in  sober  truth  the 
character  of  Francis  Asbury,  the  pioneer  bishop 
of  America. 

At  the  mention  of  that  name  there  rises  the 
vision  of  an  aged  man  with  snow-white  hair  and 
benignant  aspect,  worn  with  toil  and  travel, 
brown  with  the  brand  of  the  sun  and  with  ex- 
posure to  the  vicissitudes  of  fair  and  foul 
weather.     His  brow,  the  home  of  high  thoughts, 

is  furrowed  by  the  care  of  all  the  churches  com- 

252 


Francis  Asbury,  Pioneer  Bishop  of  America 

ing  upon  him  daily.  No  prclatic  lawn,  like 
"  samite,  mystic,  wonderful,"  invests  with  its 
flowing  folds  his  person.  Clad  in  sober  black 
or  homespun  brown,  he  bestrides  his  horse,  his 
wardrobe  and  library  contained  in  the  bulging 


FRANCIS  ASBURY. 


saddlebags  which  constitute  his  sole  equipage. 

Instead  of  lodging  in  an  episcopal  palace,  he  is 

glad  to  find  shelter  in  the  hut  of  a  backwoods 

settler  or  to  bivouac  beneath  the  open  sky. 

With  much  of  their  original  force  he  mio-ht 

adopt  the  words  of  the  first  and  greatest  mis- 
17  253 


Makers  of  Methodism 

sionary  of  tlie  cross,  and  exclaim:  "  In  journey- 
ings  often,  in  perils  of  waters,  in  perils  of 
robbers,  ...  in  perils  in  the  wilderness,  .  .  . 
in  weariness  and  painfulness,  in  watchings  often, 
in  hunger  and  thirst,  in  fastings  often,  in  cold 
and  nakedness."  With  no  less  truthfulness  than 
St.  Paul  himself  might  he  declare,  "  We  preach 
not  ourselves,  but  Christ  Jesus  the  Lord ;  and 
ourselves  your  servants  for  Jesus'  sake."  He 
was  an  heroic  soul  in  an  heroic  age.  Reunited, 
in  a  rich  garland  of  graces,  the  fervor  of  an 
apostle,  the  boldness  of  a  confessor,  the  piety  of 
a  saint,  the  tenderness  of  a  woman,  and  the  self- 
sacrifice  of  a  martyr.  His  life  and  labors  will 
well  repay  our  study. 

Francis  Asbury  was  a  gift  from  the  Old 
World  to  the  New — from  the  mother  to  the 
daughter  land.  He  was  born  in  Staffordshire, 
near  Birmingham,  in  1745,  the  year  of  the 
vScottish  rising  in  favor  of  the  Pretender.  He 
was  early  sent  to  school,  but  suffered  much  from 
the  petty  tyranny  of  the  pedant  pedagogue,  who, 
"  clothed  with  a  little  brief  authority,"  made  the 
lives  of  his  pupils  bitter  unto  them.  But  even 
as  a  child  he  carried  his  troubles  to  the  throne 
of  grace.  He  records  that  "  God  was  very  near 
to  him — a  very  present  help  in  time  of  trouble." 

In  his  fourteenth  year  he  left  home  to  learn  a 

trade.     His  religious  impressions  deepened,  and 

254 


Francis  AsBURv,  I'ioneer  Bi.siiur  of  America 

hearing  the  Methodists  spoken  against,  as  a  peo- 
ple righteous  overmuch,  he  sought  their  ac- 
quaintance. His  desire  was  soon  gratified.  He 
expressed  some  surprise  that  the  service  was  not 
in  a  church.  It  was  probably  in  a  private  house 
or  barn.  "  But,"  he  records,  "  it  was  better  than 
a  church  ;  the  people  were  so  devout ;  men  and 
women  kneeling  and  all  saying  '  Amen.'  " 

This  simple  spiritual  worship  took  hold  of  his 
soul.  He  engaged  with  zeal  in  religious  worK, 
holding  prayer  meetings  on  heath  and  holt,  in 
cottage  and  on  common.  He  was  rewarded  by 
seeing  many  converted  from  their  sins.  He 
was  soon  licensed  as  local  preacher,  and  held 
forth  the  word  of  life  in  the  Wesleyan  chapels 
of  the  vicinity  to  "wondering,  weeping  thou- 
sands." Multitudes  were  attracted  by  his  ex- 
treme 3'outh,  he  being  then  not  more  than  seven- 
teen years  of  age.  Besides  his  Sabbath  services 
he  often  preached  five  times  during  the  week, 
faithfully  attending  meanwhile  to  his  daily  toil. 

In  his  twent}' -first  year  he  was  received  into 
the  "Wesleyan  Conference  and  appointed  to  cir- 
cuit work.  As  an  obedient  son  in  the  Gospel 
he  labored  faithfully  on  his  several  circuits.  At 
the  Bristol  Conference,  in  1771,  John  Wesley 
called  for  volunteers  for  the  work  in  America. 
His  heart  still  linsrered  on  the  shores  where  he 
had  toiled  and  endured  great  trial  of  affliction  a 

255 


Makers  of  Methodism 

quarter  of  a  century  before.  Whitefield,  with 
tongue  of  fire  and  heart  of  flame,  had  traversed 
the  continent — like  an  angel,  trumpet-tongued — 
calling  on  men  everywhere  to  repent.  Philip 
Embury  and  Captain  Webb  had  begun  to  or- 
ganize Methodist  societies  in  the  New  World, 
and  thither  Pilmoor  and  Boardm.an  had  been 
sent  two  years  before.  Among  the  first  to  re- 
spond to  Wesley's  call  was  Francis  Asbury, 
unknowing  of  the  toil  and  trial  he  thus  espoused 
or  of  the  glorious  reward  and  abiding  renown 
that  he  should  win. 

With  tears  and  many  prayers  he  took  leave 
of  his  beloved  parents,  whom  he  was  never  to 
see  again.  His  outfit  was  of  the  slenderest  kind, 
and  on  shipboard  he  was  obliged  to  sleep  on  the 
bare  planks.  Full  of  zeal,  he  preached  to  the 
sailors  when  it  was  so  stormy  that  he  had  to  seek 
support  from  the  mast.  His  heart  yearned  for 
the  multitudes  wandering  in  the  wilderness  of 
the  New  World  as  sheep  having  no  shepherd. 

After  a  weary  eight- weeks'  voyage  he  reached 

Pliiladelphia.      He  began  forthwith  his  active 

work,  and  his  labors  were  followed  by  a  '*  great 

awakening."     He  had  been  thoroughly  steeped 

with  the  principle  of  John  Wesley — "to  go  to 

those  who  needed  him   most."     From  an  entry 

in  his  Journal  we  learn  what  manner  of  man  he 

was:    **  My  brethren   seem   unwilling  to  leave 

256 


Francis  Asbury,  Pioneer  Bishop  of  America 

the  cities,  but  I  think  I  shall  show  them  the 
way.  ...  I  have  nothing-  to  seek  but  the  glory 
of  God,  nothing  to  fear  but  his  displeasure.  .  .  . 
I  am  determined  that  no  man  shall  bias  me  with 
soft  words  and  fair  speeches,  nor  will  I  ever 
fear  the  face  of  man,  or  know  any  man  after  the 
flesh,  if  I  beg  my  bread  from  door  to  door;    but, 


'^'v'%^'!,,-!^fe 


BIRTHPLACE   OF   FRANCIS    ASIU'RY. 

whomsoever  I  please  or  displease,  I  will  be  faith- 
ful to  God,  to  the  people,  and  to  my  own  soul." 
There  spoke  the  hero  heart.  In  this  man  dwelt 
the  spirit  of  John  Knox  or  of  John  the  Baptist. 
He  was  evidently  a  God-appointed  captain  of 

Israel's  host  and  true  overshepherd  of  souls. 

257 


Makers  of  Methodism 

Forthwith  Asbury  began  to  range  through  the 
country,  everywhere  preaching  tlie  word.  At 
New  York  he  preached  to  five  thousand  people 
on  the  race-course,  and  exhorted  the  multitude 
to  run  with  patience  the  race  set  before  them. 

In  1772  Wesley  appointed  Asbury  superin- 
tendent of  the  societies  in  America,  which  had 
considerably  increased  in  number.  The  next  year 
the  first  Conference  was  held  in  Philadelphia. 
vSo  mightily  grew  the  word  of  God  and  prevailed 
that  for  several  years  the  membership  was 
nearly  doubled  annually.  Great  revivals  took 
place,  especially  in  Maryland  and  Virginia. 
Multitudes  were  stricken  to  the  earth  as  by  a 
supernatural  power,  and  rose  to  praise  God. 

The  unhappy  conflict  with  the  mother  coun- 
try now  broke  out.  The  bruit  of  war  was  abroad 
in  the  land.  vSome  of  the  English  preachers  felt 
constrained  by  their  loyalty  to  return  home. 
But  Asbury  declared  :  "  I  can  by  no  means  leave 
such  a  field  for  gathering  souls  to  Christ  as  we 
have  in  America;  neither  is  it  the  part  of  a 
good  shepherd  to  leave  his  flock  in  time  of 
danger.  Therefore  I  am  determined,  by  the 
o-race  of  God,  not  to  leave  them,  let  the  conse- 
quencebe  what  it  may." 

During  a  fit  of  sickness  in   1776  he  went  to 

recuperate  at  Warm  vSulphur  Springs,  Virginia. 

His  lodgings,  he  said,  though  only  sixteen  feet 

258 


Francis  AsBURY,  PioNEKR  Bisik^p  opAmkrica 

by  twenty,  contained  seven  beds  and  sixteen 
persons,  besides  some  noisy  children.  His  plan 
of  duty  as  an  invalid  was  "  to  read  about  a  hun- 
dred pages  a  day,  pray  in  public  five  times  a 
day,  preach  in  the  open  air  every  other  day,  and 
lecture  in  prayer  meeting  every  evening."  Un- 
der this  regimen,  with  the  blessing  of  God,  he 
soon  recovered  his  health. 

Suspected,  apparently,  of  sympathy  with  the 
mother  country,  he  was  required  to  take  the  oath 
of  allegiance  to  the  State  of  jSlaryland.  Its  form, 
however,  was  such  that  he  could  not  conscien- 
tiously accept  it.  He  was  therefore  obliged  to 
leave  the  State  and  take  refuge  in  Delaware, 
where  the  State  oath  was  not  required  of  minis- 
ters of  reliofion.  He  found  an  asvlum  for  a  time 
in  the  house  of  a  friend.  He  soon  discovered, how- 
ever, that  he  must  seek  safety  elsewhere,  and  he 
went  forth  as  a  fugitive,  not  knowing  whither  he 
went.  He  had  not  gone  many  miles  before  he  met 
a  funeral.  Although  it  increas-ed  his  danger,  he 
did  not  hesitate  to  stop  and  give  an  address  full 
of  Christian  sympathy. 

He  was  compelled  to  take  refuge  in  "  a  wild 

and  dismal  swamp,"  which  he  likened  to  "  the 

shades  of  death."     Three   thousand  miles  from 

home  and  kindred,  regarded  as  an  enemy  to  his 

adopted   country,  and,  worst  of  all,  obliged   to 

remain  in  hiding  when  the  word  of  God  was  a 

259 


Makers  of  Methodism 

fire  in  his  bones,  and  liis  soul  was  longfino:  to 
range  the  country  and  proclaim  the  Gospel  to 
perishing  multitudes,  his  heart  was  much  de- 
pressed. Yet  did  he  sing  his  "  Sursum  Corda" 
in  the  wilderness,  and,  under  the  special  pro- 
tection of  the  governor  of  the  State,  who  knew 
and  honored  his  worth,  was  allowed  to  come 
forth  from  his  hiding  and  engage  without  hin- 
drance in  his  work. 

That  work  was  no  holiday  amusement.  The 
following  extracts  from  his  Journal  will  indicate 
its  character :  "We  set  out  for  Crump's,  over 
rocks,  hills,  creeks,  and  pathless  woods.  The 
young  man  with  me  was  heartless  before  we  had 
traveled  a  mile.  .  .  .With  great  difficulty  we  came 
into  the  settlement  .  .  .  after  traveling  eight  or 
nine  hours,  the  people  looking  almost  as  wild  as 
the  deer  in  the  woods.  ...  I  can  see  little  else 
but  cabins  in  these  parts,  built  with  poles.  I 
crossed  Deej)  River  in  a  ferryboat,  and  the  poor 
ferryman  swore  because  I  had  not  a  shilling  to 
give  him."*  Swimming  his  horse  across  another 
river,  he  found  shelter  in  the  cabin  of  a  friendly 
settler.  "  His  resting  place,  however,"  says 
Strickland's  record  of  his  life,  "  was  on  the  top 
of  a  chest,  and  his   clothes  his  only  covering. 

*  On  another  occasion  a  ferryman  declined  to  take  any  fee,  saying  he  never 
charged  ministers  or  babes,  for,  if  they  did  no  good,  thej-  did  no  harm.  "  Nay," 
replied  Asbury,  "  that  is  not  true,  for  the  minister  who  does  no  good  does  much 
Jiarra." 

260 


Francis  Asdurv,  I'iuneer  Bisiun'  of  America 

This,  however,  was  better  far  than  he  often 
had.  Frequently,  when  benighted  in  the  wil- 
derness, he  has  slept  on  the  ground  or  on  rocks, 
or  on  some  boards  in  a  deserted  cabin,  with 
nothing  to  eat."  Day  after  day  he  traveled  over 
the  broken  spurs  of  the  Alleghanies,  without 
food  from  morning  to  night.  His  mind  was 
raised  to  loftiest  contemplation  by  the  sublime 
scenery,  and  his  heart  was  cheered  by  his  op- 
portunities of  breaking  the  bread  of  life  to  the 
lonely  mountaineers. 

A  change  in  his  relations  to  the  Church  was 
now  to  take  place.  "  Fifteen  years,"  says  Dr. 
Strickland,  "  had  elapsed  since  Asbury  began 
preaching  in  America.  He  was  now  forty  years 
of  age,  and  more  than  half  of  his  life  had  been 
spent  in  preaching  the  Gospel,  yet  up  to  this 
time  he  was  an  unordained  man.  No  ordi- 
nances of  the  Church  had  ever  yet  been  admin- 
istered by  his  hands,  and  he  consented,  with  the 
rest  of  his  brethren  in  the  ministry,  to  receive 
the  sacrament  at  the  hands  of  the  Episcopal 
priesthood."  There  were  now  in  America  one 
hundred  and  four  Methodist  ministers,  and  the 
membership  had  risen  to  fifteen  thousand. 

It  was  felt  that  the  time  had  come  when  the 
anomalous  condition  of  these  men  should  cease. 
John  Wesley,  therefore,  wrote  a  memorable 
epistle — often  quoted — to  the  American  socie- 

2^1 


Makers  of  Methodism 

I 

ties,    from   which   we   malve  the   following  ex- 
tracts : 

"  Lord  King's  Account  of  tlie  Prttniihic  CJiiirch  con- 
vinced me  many  years  ago  that  bisliops  and  presbyters  are 
the  same  order,  and,  consequently,  have  the  same  right  to  or- 
dain. For  many  years  1  have  been  importuned  from  time  to 
time  to  exercise  this  right  by  ordaining  part  of  our  traveling 
preachers,  but  I  have  still  refused,  not  only  for  peace'  sake, 
but  because  I  was  determined  as  little  as  possible  to  violate 
the  established  order  of  the  national  Church  to  which  I  belong. 

"  But  the  case  is  widely  different  between  England  and 
America.  Here  there  are  bishops  who  have  a  legal  jurisdic- 
tion. In  America  there  are  none,  and  but  few  parish  ministers, 
so  that  for  some  hundred  miles  together  there  is  none  either 
to  baptize  or  to  administer  the  Lord's  Su])per.  Here,  there- 
fore, my  scruples  are  at  an  end,  and  I  conceive  myself  at  full 
liberty,  as  I  violate  no  order  and  invade  no  man's  right  by  ap- 
pointing and  sending  laborers  into  the  harvest. 

"  I  have  accordingly  aj^pointed  Dr.  Coke  and  Mr.  Francis 
Asbury  to  be  joint  superintendents  over  our  brethren  in  North 
America;  as  also  Richard  Whatcoat  and  Thomas  Vasey  to 
act  as  elders  among  them  by  administering  baptism  and  the 
Lord's  Supper. 

"  If  anyone  will  point  out  a  more  rational  and  scriptural 
way  of  feeding  and  guiding  those  poor  sheejiin  the  wilderness, 
I  will  gladly  embrace  it.  At  present  I  cannot  see  any  better 
method  than  that  I  have  taken. 

"  As  our  American  bretliren  are  now  totally  disentangled 
both  from  the  State  and  the  English  hierarchy,  we  dare  not 
entangle  them  again  either  with  the  one  or  the  other.  They 
are  now  at  full  hberty  simply  to  follow  the  Scriptures  and  the 
primitive  Church.  And  we  judge  it  best  they  should  stand 
fast  in  that  liberty  wherewith  God  has  so  strangely  made  them 
free. 

"John  Wesley." 
262 


FkAxN'cis  Asburv,  Pioneer  Bishop  of  America 

This  document  exhibits  at  once  the  wise 
judgment  and  lofty  Christian  expediency  of  the 
founder  of  Metliodism.  His  challenge  to  be 
shown  a  more  excellent  way  of  dealing  with  the 
question  has  not  yet  been  accepted.  We  can- 
not but  regard  it  as  a  providential  blessing  that 
the  Bishop  of  London  declined  to  ordain  Dr. 
Coke  as  a  bishop  for  America,  thus  breaking 
forever  the  superstitious  bond  of  so-called  apos- 
tolic succession  so  far  as  concerned  the  free 
Methodism  of  the  New  World. 

In  the  gathering  of  the  itinerant  preachers 
assembled  at  Baltimore,  December  24,  1784,* 
this  figment  of  priestcraft,  which  makes  validity 
of  ordination  depend  on  a  shadowy  succession 
through  the  Dark  Ages  as  the  only  vehicle  of 
apostolic  grace,  was  boldly  repudiated.  It  was 
felt  that  the  true  anointing  was  that  of  the  Holy 
Ghost — that  the  real  successors  of  the  apostles 
were  those  who  received  their  inspiration  and 
authority  from  the  same  Master  and  Lord. 

This  Conference  therefore  ors^anized  itself 
into  "The  Methodist  Episcopal  Church  of  the 
United  States,"  and  Dr.  Thomas  Coke  and 
Francis  Asbury  were  elected  the  first  bishops 
thereof.  As  Asbury  was  up  to  this  period  an 
unordained   man,  he    was    first,    on    Christmas 

*It   is  known  as  the   Christmas  Conference.     It  lasted  from  December  24, 
17S4,  to  January  2,   1785. 

263 


Makers  of  Methodism 

Day,  ordained  by  Dr.  Coke,  deacon;  on  the 
26tli,  elder;  and  on  the  following  day,  bishop 
or  "  superintendent,"  as  he  is  called  in  the 
official  document. 

Such  rapid  ecclesiastical  promotion  is,  we  be- 
lieve, unprecedented  since  the  days  of  St.  Am- 
brose, who,  notwithstanding  his  vigorous  "-nolo 
cpiscopari,'"  was,  though  but  a  catechumen, 
elected  Bishop  of  Milan  A.  D.  374. 

The  new  title  of  Asbury,  however,  increased 
neither  his  power  nor  his  influence  among  his 
brethren.  He  already  ruled  by  love  in  all  their 
hearts.  His  elevation  of  office  gave  him  only 
preeminence  in  toil.  The  day  after  the  Con- 
ference he  rode  fifty  miles  through  forest  and 
snow;  the  next  day  he  rode  forty  more,  and  so 
on  till  the  Sabbath,  when  he  halted  for  labor, 
not  for  rest.  This  was  his  initiation  into  the 
office  of  bishop. 

True  to  its  original  genius,  American  Metho- 
dism promoted  zealously  the  cause  of  higher 
education.  With  much  effort  Cokesbury  Col- 
lege— commemorating  in  its  name  the  two 
superintendents  of  the  Church — was  established 
in  the  lovely  valley  of  the  Susquehanna,  over- 
looking the  broad  Chesapeake  Bay.  The  cur- 
riculum was  comprehensive,  embracing  English, 
Latin,   Greek,  Hebrew,    French,    and   German. 

To  preachers'  sons  and  indigent  students  tuition, 

264 


Francis  Asbukv,  Pioneer  Hisiiur  ui  America 

board,  and  clothing  were  free.  Others  were  ex- 
pected to  pay  a  moderate  fee.  The  "recrea- 
tion "  of  the  students  consisted  in  agricultural 
labor  and  building — "  both  necessary,"  it  is  re- 
marked, "in  a  new  country."  After  a  useful 
and  successful  existence  for  ten  years  it  was 
burned  to  the  ground.  A  heap  of  smoldering 
ruins  was  all  that  marked  its  lovely  site. 

Asbury,  on  whom  devolved  the  chief  toil  of 
findinof  funds  for  its  maintenance,  thus  writes, 
date  1 796  :  ' '  Cokesbury  College  is  consumed  to 
ashes,  a  sacrifice  of  ^10,000  in  ten  years  [an 
immense  sum  in  those  days].  If  any  man 
would  give  me  ;^  10,000  per  year  to  do  and  suf- 
fer asfain  what  I  have  done  for  that  house,  I 
would  not  do  it."  His  salary  at  this  time  was 
sixty-four  dollars  a  year.  It  was  evidently, 
therefore,  not  for  the  emolument  that  he  "did 
and  suffered  "  all  this. 

Undaunted  by  disaster,  the  Methodists  of  Bal- 
timore purchased,  at  a  cost  of  $22,000,  a  build- 
ing in  that  city,  and  established  Asbury  College. 
The  change  of  name,  however,  brought  no 
change  of  fortune,  and  it,  too,  was  soon  de- 
stroyed by  fire. 

A  Methodist  academy  was  also  established  in 

Georgia,    and    another    in    the    West;    but  the 

difficulty  of  maintenance  was  great.    "  We  have 

the  poor,"  writes  Asbury,    "but  they  have  no 

265 


Makers  of  Methodism 

money,  and  the  wicked  rich  we  do  not  wish  to 
ask." 

Asbury's  labors  during  this  period  were  ex- 
cessive, his  lodgings  were  often  wretched,  and 
his  fare  was  meager  and  poor.  He  and  Dr. 
Coke  sometimes  rode  three  hundred  miles  a 
week,  preaching  every  day.  Asbury's  Journal 
recounts  his  riding  seventy-five  miles  in  one  day, 
reaching  a  cabin  at  midnight,  and  leaving  it  at 
four  in  the  morning.  Sometimes  he  slept  in  the 
woods,  sometimes  on  the  floor  of  a  cabin,  whose 
walls  were  oftened  adorned  with  coon  or  wild- 
cat skins,  and  sometimes  he  fared  even  worse, 
for  he  writes,  "O,  how  glad  should  I  be  of  a 
plain  cleank  plank  to  lie  on  as  preferable  to  the 
beds !  "  It  was  his  misfortune  to  have  a  deli- 
cate skin  and  a  keen  sense  of  smell.  It  was  con- 
sidered a  lucky  day  when  he  dined  on  raccoon 
or  bearsteaks,  cooked  by  a  fire  that  the  wind  and 
rain  often  extinguished. 

In  some  of  his  distant  missionary  excursions 

— at  times  traveling  fifty  miles  without  seeing  a 

house — for  protection  against  wild  beasts  and 

wilder  men  Asbury  used  to  travel  with  armed 

bands  of  mounted  hunters.     It  was  a  time  of 

Indian  massacres.     The  fate  of  the  victims  was 

most  tragical ;   one  wretched  survivor  was  four 

days  dragging  herself  a  distance   of  only  two 

miles.    Sometimes  Asbury's  party  were  pursued 

266 


Francis  Asbury,  Pioneer  Bishop  op^  America 

by  bands  of  infuriated  savages,  to  cseape  from 
whom  they  had  to  press  on  all  night  through 
the  tangled  wilderness. 

Asbury  never  married.  In  his  quaint  Journal 
he  gives  the  following  reasons  for  what  could 
scarcely  be  called  his  choice :  ' '  Among  the 
duties  of  my  office  was  that  of  traveling  exten- 
sively, and  I  could  hardly  expect  to  find  a  woman 
with  grace  enough  to  enable  her  to  live  but  one 
week  out  of  fifty-two  with  her  husband.  Be- 
sides, what  right  has  any  man  to  take  advantage 
of  the  affections  of  a  woman,  make  her  his  wife, 
and  by  voluntary  absence  subvert  the  whole 
order  and  economy  of  the  marriage  state  by 
separating  those  whom  neither  God,  nature,  nor 
the  requirements  of  civil  society  permit  long  to 
be  put  asunder?  It  is  neither  just  nor  gener- 
ous. I  may  add  to  this  that  I  had  but  little 
money,  and  with  this  I  administered  to  the 
necessities  of  a  beloved  mother  till  I  was  fift}-- 
seven.  If  I  have  done  wrong,  I  hope  God  and 
the  sex  will  forgive  me." 

"  He  often  impoverished  himself,"  writes  his 
biographer,  "  to  relieve  the  wants  of  others.  At 
one  time  we  find  him  with  only  two  dollars  in 
the  world,  and  his  poor  preachers  ragged  and 
destitute.  First  his  little  purse  was  drained, 
and    then    followed   his    cloak    and  watch    and 

shirt."     His  own  clothes  were  often  threadbare 

267 


Makers  of  Methodism 

and  faded,  and  he  has  been  known  to  start  on  a 
journey  of  two  thousand  miles  with  an  outfit  of 
only  three  dollars.  He  was  almost  as  depend- 
ent on  the  providence  of  God  as  was  Elijah  when 
fed  by  ravens.  These  were  no  times  for  marry- 
ing or  giving  in  marriage.  He  who  did  so  was 
almost  invariably  compelled  to  "  locate  "  in  order 
to  earn  a  living  for  his  family.  "  We  have  lost 
the  labors,"  writes  Asbury,  "  of  two  hundred  of 
the  best  men  of  America  from  this  cause." 

As  a  discreet  unmarried  man,  who  was  des- 
tined by  his  own  choice  to  live  and  die  in  celib- 
acy, Asbury,  when  he  could  do  so,  avoided  the 
society  of  ladies.  But  sometimes  he  could  not 
do  so.  Dr.  Strickland,  in  his  biography,  relates 
one  instance  which  we  give  largely  in  his  own 
words : 

Asbury  was  traveling  in  a  wild  Western  coun- 
try, and  was  in  danger  of  missing  his  way  and 
becoming  lost  in  the  woods.  The  daughter  of 
his  host  proposed  to  pioneer  him  through  the 
wilderness.  He  did  not  positively  decline  the 
offer  of  his  fair  guide,  though  it  would  have 
suited  his  notions  better  to  have  gone  alone, 
even  if  he  had  missed  his  way.  Roads  there 
were  none;  nothing  but  blind  or  "blazed" 
paths.  The  horses  were  soon  ready  and  the 
bishop   in    his   saddle.     With    the    celerity  for 

which  the    Western    girls    were   famous    Mary 

"268 


Francis  Asbury,  Pioneer  Bishop  of  America 

sprang-  to  the  back  of  her  spirited  steed  and  was 
at  once  by  his  side.  They  soon  entered  the 
forest  and  were  lost  to  sight.  Mary  knew  the 
route  and  led  the  way. 

They  came  at  length  to  a  deep  and  narrow 
ravine,  whose  rugged  and  precipitous  banks 
seemed  to  forbid  a  passage.  The  bishop  at  be- 
holding- it  felt  relieved,  as  he  thought  he  had 
arrived  at  a  Rubicon  which  his  fair  companion 
could  not  pass.  Spurring  his  horse,  he  cleared 
the  ravine  at  a  bound.  He  congratulated  him- 
self that  he  was  now  rid  of  what  he  felt  rather 
an  incumbrance,  as  he  had  considerable  qualms 
of  conscience  about  going-  to  the  appointment, 
where  he  was  a  stranger,  in  company  with  a 
young  lady. 

Turning  on  his  horse,  he  was  about  bidding 
her  good-b3^e,  with  the  exclamation,  "Mary, 
you  can't  do  that  "—a  most  unhappy  suggestion 
for  him  to  make  to  a  proud-spirited  Western  girl, 
' '  I'll  try,"  was  her  prompt  and  fearless  response, 
and,  suiting  the  action  to  the  word,  horse  and 
rider  were  in  a  moment  at  his  side.  Faithful 
to  her  task,  she  accompanied  the  bishop  to  the 
end  of  his  journey,  and  after  the  preaching  re- 
turned with  him  to  her  father's  house. 

Asbury  was  the  father  of  missions  in  Ameri- 
can Methodism,  sending  out  preachers  to  the 

destitute  settlements,   and  soliciting    funds  all 
18  269 


Makers  of  Methodism 

over  the  country  for  their  support.  He  also 
established  "  The  Preachers'  Fund  "  for  the  aid 
of  superannuates,  widows,  and  orphans.  He  or- 
ganized the  Book  Concern,  which  has  been  such 
a  source  of  diffusion  of  religious  light  and 
knowledge.  He  was  the  first  man  in  America  to 
introduce  vSunday  schools  (1786).  The  schools, 
according  to  the  Discipline  of  1792,  were  held 
"from  six  in  the  morning  until  ten,  and  from 
two  in  the  afternoon  until  six,"  where  it  did  not 
interfere  with  public  worship. 

The  early  years  of  this  century  were  times  of 
great  religious  revival,  especially  in  the  Middle 
and  Southern  States.  The  immense  gatherings 
known  as  camp  meetings  took  their  origin  from 
the  open-air  sacramental  services  held  by  the 
Presbyterian  ministers,  which  lasted  several 
days.  Sometimes  from  ten  to  fifteen  thousand 
persons  were  assembled,  and  the  Presbyterian 
and  Methodist  ministers  labored  side  by  side  in 
their  work  of  faith.  So  vast  w^ere  the  crowds 
that  several  preachers  from  different  stands 
proclaimed  at  the  same  time  the  word  of  life, 
and  hundreds  might  have  been  seen  prostrate 
on  the  earth  or  wild  with  joy,  shouting  the 
praises  of  God.  Sometimes  thirty  preachers 
were  present  and  four  hundred  persons  were 
converted. 

Toil,  travel,  and  exposure  wore  down  Asbury's 

270 


Francis  AsBUKY,  Pioneer  Bishop  ok  Amkkk  a 

strength,  yet  he  gave  himself  no  rest.  In  his 
fifty-seventh  year  he  erossed  the  rugged  Cum- 
berland Mountains  for  the  fiftieth  time.  He 
was  suffering  from  acute  pain  in  his  whole  body 
and  with  swelling  of  his  knees,  which  he  at- 
tributed to  sleeping  uncovered  in  the  woods. 
By  the  aid  of  laudanum  he  got  two  hours'  sleep 
in  the  forest  beneath  a  blanket  stretched  out 
like  a  tent.  His  companions  slept  beneath  a 
cloak  thrown  over  a  branch.  He  had  to  be 
lifted  on  his  horse  like  a  child.  Scarce  able  to 
refrain  from  crying  out  in  his  agony,  he  writes, 
"Lord,  let  me  die,  for  death  hath  no  terrors." 
Yet  the  heroic  soul  so  sustained  the  frail  body 
that  through  mountains  and  forests  he  com- 
pleted his  usual  yearly  journey  of  six  thousand 
miles. 

He  deeply  commiserated  the  wretched  emi- 
grants journeying  by  hundreds  over  the  moun- 
tains— almost  foodless,  shelterless,  clothesless, 
toiling  along  on  foot,  those  who  were  best  off 
having  only  one  horse  for  two  or  three  chil- 
dren to  ride  at  once.  Yearning  over  these 
lost  sheep  in  the  wilderness,  he  writes  in  his 
Journal,  "  We  must  send  preachers  after  these 
people." 

Methodism  in  those  days  was  to  many  an  ob- 
ject of  intense  aversion.     Let  one  example  of 

this  sufiB.ce :   Dr.  Hinde  was  the  military  physi- 

271 


Makers  of  Methodism 

cian  of  General  Wolfe.  At  the  close  of  the 
French  war  he  settled  in  Kentucky.  His  wife 
and  daughter  joined  the  Methodists.  The 
latter  he  banished  from  home.  The  former  he 
put  under  medical  treatment  for  what  he  feigned 
to  regard  as  insanity.  His  remedy  was  a  blister 
plaster  extending  the  whole  length  of  the  back. 
The  fortitude  and  meekness  wdth  which  the 
Christian  wife  bore  her  persecutions  resulted  in 
the  doctor's  conviction  and  subsequent  conver- 
sion. He  became  one  of  Asbury's  best  friends. 
"  He  will  never  again,"  wrote  the  bisbop,  "put 
a  blister  on  his  wife's  head  to  draw  the  Metho- 
dism out  of  her  heart." 

In  his  sixty-third  year  the  indomitable  pioneer 
writes :  "I  am  young  again  and  boast  of  being 
able  to  ride  six  thousand  miles  on  horseback  in 
ten  months.  My  round  will  embrace  the  United 
States,  the  territory,  and  Canada."  At  this  age 
he  frequently  rode  three  hundred  miles  a  week. 
On  his  ' '  round  "  he  was  attacked  with  imflamma- 
tory  rheumatism.  But  he  provided  himself  with 
a  pair  of  crutches  and  rode  on  through  a  shower 
of  rain.  He  had  to  be  lifted  from  his  horse  and 
carried  into  the  house. 

The  Rev.  Henry  Boehm  thus  describes  Bishop 

Asbury's  visit   to   Canada   in    1811:    "Having 

crossed  Lake  Champlain,  the  bishop  preached  in 

a   barroom   at    Plattsburg,    and   the   next   day 

272 


Francis  Asbury,  Pioneer  Bishop  of  America 

entered  Canada.  The  roads  over  rocks,  gullies, 
and  stumps  were  enough  to  jolt  a  hale  bishop  to 
death,  let  alone  a  poor,  infirm  old  man.  On 
entering  St.  Regis,  as  Bishop  Asbury  was  lead- 
ing his  horse  across  a  bridge  made  of  poles,  the 
animal  got  his  feet  between  them  and  sunk  into 
the  mud  and  water.  Away  went  the  saddle- 
bags ;  the  books  and  clothes  were  wet,  and  the 
horse  was  fast.  We  got  a  pole  under  him  to  pry 
him  out ;  at  the  same  time  the  horse  made  a  leap 
and  came  out  safe  and  sound. 

"We  crossed  the  St.  Lawrence  in  romantic 
style.  We  hired  four  Indians  to  paddle  us  over. 
They  lashed  three  log  canoes  together  and  put 
our  horses  in  them,  their  fore  feet  in  one  canoe, 
their  hind  feet  in  another.  We  were  a  lone 
time  crossing,  for  some  part  was  rough,  espe- 
cially the  rapids,  and  reached  shelter  about  mid- 
night. 

' '  The  bishop  was  delighted  with  the  people 
and  the  country.  *  Here  is  a  decent,  loving 
people,'  he  wrote.  *  My  soul  is  much  united  to 
them.  Surely  this  is  a  land  which  God  hath 
blessed.'  He  called  on  the  Heck  family,  the 
Methodist  pioneers  of  Canada,  as  of  the  United 
States,  and  traveled  over  the  rough  roads  suffer- 
ing like  a  martyr  with  inflammatory  rheumatism. 
He  crossed  Lake  Ontario  from  Kingston  to 
Sackett's  Harbor  in  an  open  sailboat.     A  tre- 

273 


Makers  of  Methodism 

mendous  storm  broke  upon  them.  In  order  to 
make  the  bishop  as  comfortable  as  possible," 
continues  Mr.  Boehm,  "  I  made  him  a  bed, 
covered  him  with  the  blankets  we  carried  with 
us,  and  fixed  the  canvas  over  him  like  a  tent,  to 
keep  off  the  wind  and  the  rain.  Then  I  lay  down 
on  the  bottom  of  the  boat  on  some  stones  placed 
there  for  ballast,  which  I  covered  with  some  hay 
I  procured  at  Kingston  for  our  horses.  At  mid- 
night a  sudden  squall  struck  our  frail  bark  ;  the 
canvas  flapped  and  awoke  and  alarmed  the 
bishop.  He  cried  out,  '  Henry !  Henry !  the 
horses  are  going  overboard.'  I  told  him  all  was 
safe,  that  it  was  merely  the  flapping  of  the  sail 
in  the  midnight  winds.  Reaching  land,  the 
feeble  old  bishop,  with  inflamed  and  swollen 
foot,  set  out  on  horseback  in  a  heavy  rain  for 
Conference,  'sore,  lame,  and  weary,'  'But 
Bishop  McKendree,'  he  wrote,  '  nursed  me  as  if 
I  had  been  his  own  babe.'  " 

His  growing  infirmities  now  compelled  him 
to  use  a  carriage,  and  this  is  the  way  the  grand 
old  veteran  writes:  "We  are  riding  in  a  poor 
thirty-dollar  chaise  in  partnership,  two  bishops 
of  us  [himself  and  Bishop  McKendree],  but  it 
must  be  confessed  it  tallies  well  with  our  purses. 
What  bivshops !  Well,  but  we  have  great  names  ; 
each  Western,  Southern,  and  Virginia  Confer- 
ence will  have  a  thousand  souls  truly  converted 

274 


Francis  Asbury,  Pioneer  Bishop  of  America 

to  God  ;  and  is  this  not  an  equivalent  for  a  light 
purse,  and  are  we  not  well  paid  for  starving  and 
toil?     Yes,  glory  to  God!" 

Yet  he  felt  the  weight  of  years  and  travail.  A 
little  later  he  writes:  "I  am  happy;  hut  I  am 
siek  and  weak  and  in  heaviness  by  reason  of 
suffering  and  labor.  Sometimes  I  am  ready  to 
cry  out,  '  Lord,  take  me  home  to  rest.'  Courage, 
my  soul!" 

-  His  work  seemed  to  increase  as  his  time  for 
toil  grew  shorter.  In  his  seventieth  year  he 
traveled  six  thousand  miles  in  eight  months, 
met  nine  Conferences,  and  attended  ten  camp 
meetings,  and  at  these  meetings  he  toiled  above 
measure,  often  sleeping  but  two  hours  out  of 
the  twenty-four.  Even  when  he  had  to  be  car- 
ried into  the  church  he  would  preach  with  un- 
quenchable zeal.  From  one  of  these  services 
he  was  carried  to  his  lodgings  and  "  thoroughly 
blistered,"  says  the  record,  "for  high  fever." 
Two  days  after  he  rode  thirty  miles  through  the 
bitter  cold,  and  next  day  thirty-six  more,  when 
he  was  again  carried  to  the  pulpit  to  preach  the 
word  of  life.  But  the  frail  body  was  borne  up 
by  the  strong  soul  that  seemed  as  if  it  would  not 
let  him  die. 

But  the  end  was  approaching.  In  his  seventy- 
first  year  he  attended  his  last  Conference.  Like 
a  faithful  patriarch,  leaning  upon  his  staff,  he 

275 


Makers  of  Methodism 

addressed  the  elders  of  the  tribes  of  the  Metho- 
dist Israel,  being  assured  that  he  would  erelong 
be  called  away  from  their  councils.  A  sense  of 
loneliness  came  upon  him  as  he  remembered  the 
friends  of  other  days  who  had  passed  away. 
Five  and  forty  years  of  toil  and  travail  in  cities 
and  villages,  in  the  log  cabins  and  wildernesses 
of  the  far  West  and  South,  traveling  round  the 
continent,  wnth  but  few  exceptions,  every  year 
(he  crossed  the  AUeghanies  sixty  times),  subject 
to  every  kind  of  itinerant  hardship  and  priva- 
tion, wasted  away  the  frail  body,  but  left  his  in- 
domitable spirit  strong  in  immortal  youth, 
preening  its  wings  for  its  everlasting  flight  to 
that  land  where  they  grow  not  weary  evermore. 

When  unable  longer  to  stand  he  sat  in  the 
pulpit,  and  poured  out  the  treasures  of  his  lov- 
ing, overflowing  heart  to  the  weeping  multitude, 
who  sorrowed  most  of  all  at  the  thought  "  that 
they  should  see  his  face  no  more."  He  writes 
at  this  time  in  his  Journal,  "  I  die  daily;  am 
made  perfect  by  labor  and  suffering.  There  is 
no  time  nor  opportunity  to  take  medicine  by 
daytime.  I  must  do  it  at  night.  I  am  wasting 
away." 

By  slow  and   difficult  stages,   continues  Dr. 

Strickland,    whose    account    we    condense,    he 

passed  through  South  and   North  Carolina  till 

he  reached  Richmond,  Va.      ' '  I  must  once  more 

276 


Francis  Asbury,  Pioneer  Bishop  of  America 

deliver  my  testimony  in  this  place,"  he  urged 
in  reply  to  remonstrance.  It  was  a  bright  spring 
Sabbath,  glorious  with  all  tiie  beauty  of  the 
South.  The  venerable  bishop,  with  his  silvery 
hair  flowing  down  his  shoulders,  announced  in 
tremulous  tones  his  last  text:  "  For  he  will  fin- 
ish the  work  and  cut  it  short  in  righteousness." 
He  seemed  like  one  who  was  waiting  for  the 
summons  of  the  heavenly  Bridegroom.  From 
time  to  time  he  was  compelled  to  pause  from 
sheer  exhaustion.  Nevertheless  he  preached 
for  nearly  an  hour,  during  which  time,  says  the 
narrator,  a  deep  and  awful  stillness  pervaded 
the  entire  assembly,  broken  only  by  the  sobs  of 
sympathetic  hearers.  The  spectacle  was  one  of 
moral  sublimity. 

Eager  to  attend  the  General  Conference  at 
Baltimore,  the  dying  man  pressed  on.  But  near 
Fredericksburg,  on  ground  since  deluged  with 
blood  shed  in  civil  war,  he  reached  his  last 
earthly  resting  place.  He  was  carried  into  the 
house  which  he  was  never  to  leave  till  his  worn 
and  weary  body  should  be  carried  to  the  tomb. 
On  the  last  Sabbath  of  his  life  he  called  the  fam- 
ily together  for  worship.  The  twenty-first  chap- 
ter of  Revelation  was  read  ;  and,  doubtless, 
by  the  eye  and  ear  of  faith,  he  beheld  the  holy 
city  coming  down  out  of  heaven  and  heard  the 

blessed  assurance  that  God  would  wipe  away  all 

277 


Makers  of  Methodism 

tears  forever.     As  the  service  closed  the  spirit 
of  the  patriarch  passed  away,  and  thus, 

Like  some  broad  river  widening  toward  the  sea. 
Calmly  and  grandly  joined  eternity. 

Beneath  the  pulpit  of  the  Eutaw  Methodist 
Church,  in  Baltimore,  where  he  had  so  often 
preached  in  life,  sleep  the  remains  of  the  pioneer 
bishop  of  America.  In  labors  he  was  more 
abundant  than  even  the  apostolic  Wesley  him- 
self, since  the  conditions  under  which  he  toiled 
were  so  much  more  arduous.  He  ordained  up- 
ward of  three  thousand  preachers.  He  preached 
seventeen  thousand  sermons.  He  traveled  three 
hundred  thousand  miles — from  the  pine-shad- 
owed St.  Lawrence  to  the  savannas  of  Georgia, 
from  the  surges  of  the  Atlantic  to  the  mighty 
Father  of  Waters — through  pathless  forests, 
over  rugged  mountains,  and  across  rapid  rivers. 
He  had  the  care  of  a  hundred  thousand  souls 
and  the  appointment  of  four  hundred  preachers. 

His  character  was  one  of  the  most  rounded 
and  complete  and  his  life  one  of  the  most  heroic 
recorded  in  the  annals  of  the  Church.  Says 
one  who  knew  him  well :  "  He  was  great  with- 
out science  and  venerable  without  titles.  He 
pursued  that  most  difficult  course  as  most  men 
pursue  their  pleasures.  The  delights  of  leisured 
study  and  the  charms  of  recreation  he  alike  sac- 
rificed to  the  more  sublime  work  of  saving  souls. 

278 


Francis  Asbury,  Pioneer  Bishop  of  America 

Prayer  was  the  seasoning  of  all  his  avocations. 
It  was  the  preface  to  all  business,  the  conclu- 
sion of  whatever  he  undertook.  He  never  suf- 
tered  the  cloth  to  be  removed  from  the  table  till 
he  had  given  thanks  to  God  in  prayer." 

His  preaching  was  attended  with  a  divine 
unction  which  made  it  refreshing  as  the  dew  of 
heaven.  His  words  were  at  times  "  a  dagger  to 
the  hilt  at  every  stroke,"  and  at  times  .so  tender 
that  they  made  the  hearts  of  listening  thousands 

"  Thrill  as  if  an  angel  spoke, 

Or  Ariel's  finger  touciied  the  string." 

He  was  a  man  dead  to  the  world — a  man  of 
one  work.  The  zeal  of  the  Lord's  house  con- 
sumed him  till  he  wore  out  in  the  work  and  died 
at  his  post.  "  If  I  can  only  be  instrumental," 
he  was  wont  to  exclaim,  with  streaming  eyes, 
"  in  savinof  one  soul  in  traveling  round  the  con- 
tinent,  I'll  travel  round  till  I  die." 

His  devotion  and  tenderness  toward  his  par- 
ents were  exceedingly  beautiful.  In  their  old 
age  he  regularly  remitted  to  them  a  portion 
of  his  meager  income.  "My  salary,"  he  writes, 
"is  sixty-four  dollars.  I  have  sold  my  watch 
and  library,  and  would  sell  my  shirts  before 
you  should  want.  I  spend  very  little.  The  con- 
tents of  a  small  pair  of  saddlebags  will  do  for 

me,  and  one  coat  a  year.      Had  I  ten  thousand 

279 


Makers  of  Methodism 

pounds  per  year,  you  should  be  welcome  if  you 
needed  it." 

To  his  aged  and  widowed  mother  he  wrote, 
with  tender  recollections  of  his  boyhood  :  '  'Were 
you  to  see  me  and  the  color  of  my  hair — nearly 
that  of  your  own — my  eyes  are  weak,  even  with 
o-lasses.  When  I  was  a  child  and  would  pry 
into  the  Bible  by  twinkling-  firelight  you  used 
to  say,  '  Frank,  you  will  spoil  your  eyes.'  Hard 
wear  and  hard  fare  ;  but  I  am  healthy  and  lean, 
gray-headed  and  dim-sighted.  I  wish  I  could 
come  to  see  you,  but  I  see  no  way  to  do  it  with- 
out sinning  against  God  and  his  Church." 

Asbury  could  not  be  called  in  the  strictest 
sense  a  scholar.  He  never  enjoyed  the  univer- 
sity training  of  the  Wesleys,  Fletcher,  and  Coke. 
But  he  was  better  read  than  many  a  college 
graduate  in  theology,  Church  history  and  polity, 
civil  history,  and  general  literature.  In  his  sad- 
dlebaes  he  carried  his  Hebrew  Bible  and  Greek 
Testament,  and  in  his  long  and  lonely  rides  and 
in  the  smoky  cabins  of  the  wilderness  he  dili- 
gently studied  the  oracles  of  God  in  their  origi- 
nal tongues. 

His  Journals  give  evidence  of  his  shrewd  ob- 
servation, keen  wit,  and  strong  idiomatic  Eng- 
lish. "Be  the  willing  servant  of  slaves,"  he 
was  wont  to  say,  "  but  the  slave  of  none."     At 

the  Virginia  saltworks  he  writes,  "  Alas!   there 

280 


Francis  Asburv,  Pioneer  Bishop  (n*'  America 

is  little  salt  here,  and  when  Sister  Russell  is  gone 
there  will  be  none  left."  He  describes  a  jour- 
ney in  New  Jersey  as  "over  dead  sands  and 
among  a  dead  people."  Yale  College  in  his  day 
was  considered  the  "seat  of  science  and  sin." 
Yet,  with  all  his  wit,  did  he  never  in  the  pulpit 
stoop 

"  To  court  a  grin  when  he  should  save  a  soul." 

His  keen  sense  of  the  beautiful  in  nature  is 
shown  in  his  sympathetic  descriptions  of  the 
"noble  Hudson,"  the  "lofty  Catskills,  with 
their  towering  cliffs,"  the  "  beautiful  Ohio,"  the 
wild  Potomac,"  the  "lovely  Shenandoah," 
"thundering  Niagara,"  "  the  interminable  for- 
ests," and  the  "broad  prairies,"  with  whose 
varied  aspects  he  was  so  familiar. 

Bishop  Asbury  had  an  intense  antipathy  to 
the  drinking  customs  so  rife  in  the  community, 
which  he  denounced  as  the  curse  of  the  coun- 
tr}' ,  The  vile  whisky  of  the  day  he  denomi- 
nated "the  devil's  tea."  He  described  the 
drovers  and  their  herds  whom  he  met  on  the 
roads  as  "  beasts  on  four  legs  and  beasts  made 
by  whisky  on  two."  "Keep  whisky  out  of 
your  cabins,"  he  was  wont  to  exhort  the  set- 
tlers, "  and  keep  them  clean,  for  your  health's 
sake  and   for  your  soul's  sake ;   for  there  is  no 

religion  in  dirt,  filth,  and  fleas." 

281 


Makers  of  Methodism 

Few  men  were  more  revered  and  beloved. 
Beyond  the  sea  as  well  as  at  home  his  character 
was  honored,  and  the  British  Conference  re- 
quested him  to  visit  that  body,  engaging  to  pay 
all  the  expenses  of  his  journey.  Few  have  had 
so  many  children  named  after  them.  Many  of 
these  became  his  sons  in  the  ministry.  To  all 
who  bore  his  name  he  left  by  his  will  a  hand- 
some copy  of  the  Scriptures.  Without  wife  or 
child,  the  Church  of  God  was  his  spouse,  which 
he  loved  and  cherished  better  than  his  own  life, 
and  a  great  multitude  of  spiritual  offspring  rose 
up  to  call  him  blessed. 

The  record  of  such  a  life  is  an  inspiration  to 
duty;  a  summons,  like  a  clarion  call,  to  blessed 
toil  for  the  Master  and  to  increased  zeal  in  his 
service.  It  is  a  scathing  rebuke  to  self-seeking, 
or  apathy,  or  indolence  in  the  most  glorious  of 
callings.  Asbury  has  lived  out  his  threescore 
years  and  ten  on  earth,  but  his  work,  behold,  it 
remaineth  for  evermore. 

The  struggle  and  grief  are  all  past. 
The  glory  and  worth  live  on. 

On  the  Methodism  of  this  broad  continent, 
from  the  region  beneath  the  Northern  Bear  to 
that  which  sees  the  Southern  Cross,  from  the 
crowded  cities  on  the  Atlantic  to  the  far-off  lonely 


regions 


282 


Francis  Ashury,  Pioneer  Brsiior  of  America 

Where  rolls  the  Oregon  and  hears  no  sound 
Save  his  own  (lashings, 

he  has   impressed   the    stamp    of   his  powerful 

mind,  his  mighty  faith,  his  unconquerable  will. 

And  down   the   ages  the  tide  of  his  influence 

shall  roll    in  ever-increasing   volume  till  time 

shall  be  no  more. 

283 


Makers  of  Methodism 


XIII 

Some  Early  Preachers  and  Bishops  of  American 

Methodism 

The  pioneer  bishops,  Asbury  and  Coke,  had 
worthy  comrades  and  successors  in  the  great 
work  of  building-  up  the  Methodist  Cliurch  on 
this  continent.  Of  a  few  of  these  we  give  brief 
sketches,  but  of  most  of  them  the  sole  record  is 
on  high.  From  the  plastic  state  of  society,  from 
the  mighty  forces  which  were  molding  the  age, 
men  of  force  of  character  were  enabled  to  leave 
their  impress  more  strongly  on  their  time  than 
is  now  possible.  They  stood  near  the  springs 
of  the  nation's  history  and  were  able  to  turn 
their  currents  into  the  deep,  wide  channels  in 
which  they  now  flow. 

Such  a  man,  contemporary  with  Coke  and  As- 
bury, was  Freeborn  Garrettson.  His  very  name 
is  significant  of  a  high-souled  love  of  liberty. 
He  was  born  about  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth 
century,  of  a  leading  Maryland  family,  possess- 
ing broad  acres  and  many  slaves.  The  Metho- 
dist itinerants  were  abroad  in  the  land.  Their 
faithful   preaching  reached  his  conscience  and 

probed    it  to  the  quick.     Riding   through  the 

284 


Some  Early  Preachers  and  Bishops 

lonely  forest  he  was  so  oppressed  that  he  could 
scarcely  support  his  burden.  "  I  threw,"  he 
says,  "the  reins  of  my  bridle  on  the  horse's 
neck,  and  putting  my  hands  together  cried  out, 
'  Lord,   I  submit!  '"     Soon  he  was  able  to  re- 


FKEEI50RN    GARRIsTTSON. 


joice  in  the  sense  of  conscious  pardon.      "My 

soul  was  so  exceedingly  happy,"  he  adds,  "  that 

I  seemed  as  if  I  wanted  to  take  wing  and  fly 

away  to  heaven." 

19  285 


Makers  of  Methodism 

A  few  days  later  he  gathered  his  household 
too-ether  and  declared  to  his  slaves  their  free- 
dom,  convinced  that  "  it  is  not  right  to  keep  our 
fellow-creatures  in  bondage."  "  Till  then,"  he 
adds,  "  I  had  never  suspected  that  slavekeep- 
ing  was  wrong;  I  had  never  read  a  book  on  the  ' 
subject,  nor  been  told  so  by  any.  ...  It  was 
God,  not  man,  that  taught  me  the  impropriety 
of  holding  slaves ;  and  I  shall  never  be  able  to 
praise  him  enough  for  it."  They  all  knelt  to- 
gether, white  and  black,  as  children  of  a  com- 
mon Father,  and,  said  the  young  emancipator, 
' '  a  divine  sweetness  ran  through  my  whole 
frame." 

He  forthwith  began  to  exhort  and  preach 
and  form  classes.  The  natural  result  soon  fol- 
lowed. "  He  was  attacked  by  ruffians,  smitten 
on  the  face,  mobbed,  and  summoned  to  drill  as 
a  soldier.  When  carried  before  a  military  of- 
ficer he  '  told  his  experience,'  and  sat  on  his 
horse  '  exhorting  with  tears  a  thousand  people.* 
The  court  martial  dismissed  him  with  a  fine  of 
twelve  dollars  and  a  half  a  year,  but  he  was  never 
called  upon  to  pay  it." 

He  soon  began  his  "  ranging  "  from  the  Car- 

olinas  to  Nova  Scotia,  preaching  "  twice,  thrice, 

and  sometimes   four  times  a  day  to  listening 

multitudes  bathed  in  tears."     This  he  kept  up 

for  half  a  century,  and  left  ineffaceable  "  foot- 

286 


Some  Early  rREACHERS  and  Bishops 

prints  in  the  sands  of  time "  wherever  he 
preached.  His  views  on  slavery  won  him  a 
warm  welcome  of  a  not  very  cordial  kind.  "  He 
was  menaced  by  persecutors,  interrupted  some- 
times in  his  sermons,  threatened  by  armed  men, 
and  one  of  his  friends  was  shot  (but  not  mortally) 
for  entertaining-  him."  Yet  he  preached  often 
to  the  slaves,  "weeping  with  them  in  their 
wrongs  and  rejoicing  in  their  consolations."* 

Once  he  was  felled  from  his  horse  by  a  blow 
on  the  head  from  a  bludgeon  and  knocked  sense- 
less to  the  ground.  Yet,  like  Stephen,  he  had 
divine  consolation  under  the  rage  of  his  perse- 
cutors. "  The  heavens,"  he  writes,  "  in  a  very 
glorious  manner  seemed  to  be  open  ;  and  by  faith 
I  saw  my  dear  Redeemer  standing  at  the  right 
hand  of  the  Father  pleading  my  cause.  ...  I 
was  so  happy  that  I  could  scarcely  contain  my- 
self." With  his  face  bruised  and  scarred,  and 
sore  wounded,  he  preached  that  night  from  his 
bed,  and  next  day  rode  many  miles  and  again 
preached  twice  with  power. 

It  was  the  unhappy  period  of  the  Revolution- 
ary War.  Political  feeling  ran  high.  "He  is 
a  Tory;  hang  him!  hang  him!  "  shouted  the 
mob,  as  he  dismounted  from  his  horse.      "  I  was 


♦When  itinerating  through  New  England  many  years  later  Garrettson  was 
often  accompanied  by  his  faithful  companion,  Black  Harry,  a  pious  colored  man, 
who  not  only  ministered  to  his  physical  comfort,  but  also  aided  in  his  spiritual 
labors  by  exhorting  and  preaching  aft.  r  him. 

287 


Makers  of  Methodism 

in  a  fair  way,"  he  says,  "to  be  torn  to  pieces." 
But  with  boldness  he  declared  the  whole  council 
of  God.  "One  person  sitting  in  a  window,  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  away,  was  alarmed  by  the 
truth  and  afterward  converted." 

In  a  neighborhood  which  was  notoriouvsly 
vicious — the  haunt  of  "swearers,  drunkards, 
horse  racers,  and  gamblers" — he  preached  with 
such  power  that  the  whole  region  was  reformed. 
In  fifteen  months  in  the  Delaware  peninsula  thir- 
teen hundred  members  were  added  to  the  Church. 

In  the  same  State  he  was  arrested  while 
preaching,  and  thrown  into  jail.  "  During  a  fort- 
night," he  says,  "  I  had  a  dirty  floor  for  my 
bed,  my  saddlebags  for  my  pillow,  and  two  large 
windows  open,  with  a  cold  east  wind  blowing 
upon  me.  But  I  had  great  consolation  in  my 
Lord,  and  could  say,  'Thy  will  be  done.'  .  .  . 
Since  that  time  I  have  preached  to  more  than 
three  thousand  people  in  one  congregation  not 
far  from  the  place  where  I  was  imprisoned,  and 
many  of  my  worst  enemies  have  bowed  to  the 
scepter  of  our  sovereign  Lord." 

Garrettson  was  ordained  elder  by  Dr.  Coke  at 

the  famous  Christmas  Conference  in  1784.     At 

this  Conference  was  present  William  Black,  the 

apostle  of  Methodism  in  the  provinces  of  Nova 

Scotia  and  New   Brunswick.     He  was  a  sturdy 

Yorkshireman,   who   brought  the  Old  Country 

288 


Somp:  Early  Preachers  and  Bishops 

Methodist  fire  to  the  New  World.  His  earnest 
appeal  awoke  a  warm  response  in  the  heart  of 
Garrettson,  who  volunteered  to  go  as  a  mission- 
ary to  those  then  rugged  northern  wilds.  In 
his  semicentennial  sermon  he  gives  the  follow- 
ing account  of  some  of  his  experiences  in  Nova 
Scotia : 

"  I  traversed  the  mountains  and  valleys,  fre- 
quently on  foot,  with  my  knapsack  on  my  back, 
guided  by  Indian  paths  in  the  wilderness,  when 
it  was  not  expedient  to  take  a  horse ;  and  I  had 
often  to  wade  through  morasses  half-leg  deep  in 
mud  and  water,  frequently  satisfying  my  hun- 
ger with  a  piece  of  bread  and  pork  from  my 
knapsack,  quenching  my  thirst  from  a  brook, 
and  resting  my  weary  limbs  on  the  leaves  of 
the  trees.  Thanks  be  to  God !  He  compensated 
me  for  all  my  toil,  for  many  precious  souls  were 
awakened  and  converted  to  God." 

Garrettson  continued  his  labors  as  pathfinder 
of  Methodism  along  the  far-extending  frontier 
for  nearly  half  a  centur}'.  At  length,  unable 
longer  to  endure  the  hardships  of  the  itinerant 
life,  he  was  obliged  to  desist.  He  died  in  New 
York  city  in  1827,  in  the  seventy-sixth  year  of 
his  age.  His  ruling  passion  was  strong  in  death. 
In  his  will  he  made  provision  for  the  support  of 
a  missionary  preacher  to   carry  on  the  work  to 

which  he  himself  had  devoted  his  life. 

289 


Makers  of  Methodism 

We  hold  in  our  hand  as  we  write  a  meager, 
leather-covered,  time-stained  book,  published  in 
Baltimore  in  1810.  It  is  Jesse  Lee's  Short  His- 
tory of  the  Methodists  in  the  New  World.  A 
list  of  the  subscribers  presents  such  characteris- 
tic Puritan  names  as  Bezaleel  and  Zelotes 
Fuller,  Persis  Stebbins,  Abel  Bliss,  Resolved 
Waterman,  Comfort  Fillmore,  Providence  Baker, 
and  Zadoc  Lackland  ;  also  the  good  Dutch  names 
of  Nieukirk,  Klein hoff,  Lauderbach,  and  many- 
others  which  give  a  key  to  their  history.  In 
this  book  the  writer  recites  some  of  his  own  ad- 
ventures as  a  pioneer  preacher. 

Jesse  Lee  was  born  in  Virginia — the  mother 
of  Presidents  and  of  famous  Methodist  preach- 
ers and  bishops — in  1758.  He  was  soundly 
converted,  under  a  soul-saving  ]\Iethodist  min- 
istry, in  his  fifteenth  year,  and  was  soon  called 
of  God  and  his  brethren  to  join  the  Gospel 
brigade  for  the  conquest  of  the  continent. 
Although  Southern  born  and  bred,  he  is 
perhaps  best  known  as  the  Methodist  apostle 
of  New  England.  While  making  his  way 
through  the  land  where  the  Pilgrim  Fathers 
had  sought  freedom  to  worship  God  after  the 
dictates  of  their  conscience— a  privilege  which 
they  refused  to  the  Quakers  and  the  Metho- 
dists— he  asked  permission  to  preach  in  an  or- 
chard.    His  requCvSt  was  denied,  lest  he  should 

290 


Some  Early  Preachers  and  Bishops 

"  tread  the  grass  down."  He  therefore  took  his 
stand  by  the  roadside,  as  did  our  Saviour  and 
his  apostles  in  Galilee,  and  as  did  Jolin  Wesley 
and  his  helpers  in  England,  and  preached  out  of 
a  full  heart  the  glad  tidings  of  a  free  salvation. 

Soon  after  we  find  him  preaching  beneath  the 
famous  elm  on  Boston  Common,  one  of  the 
sacred  trees  of  New  England.  Dr.  Abel  Stevens 
thus  describes  Lee's  first  sermon  in  Boston : 

"  In  the  center  of  the  Boston  Common  still 
stands  a  gigantic  elm,  the  crowning  ornament 
of  its  beautiful  scenery.  On  a  fine  afternoon  in 
July,  1790,  a  man  of  middle  age,  of  a  severe  but 
shrewd  countenance,  and  dressed  in  a  style  of 
simplicity  which  might  have  been  taken  for  the 
guise  of  a  Quaker,  took  his  stand  upon  a  table 
beneath  the  branches  of  that  venerable  tree. 
Four  persons  approached  and  gazed  upon  him 
with  surprise  while  he  sang  a  hymn.  It  was 
sung  by  his  solitary  voice.  At  its  conclusion  he 
knelt  down  upon  the  table  and,  stretching  forth 
his  hands,  prayed  with  a  fervor  and  unction  so 
unwonted  in  the  cool  and  minute  petitions  of 
the  Puritan  pulpits  that  it  attracted  the  groups 
of  promenaders  who  had  come  to  spend  an  even- 
ing hour  in  the  shady  walks,  and  by  the  time  he 
rose  from  his  knees  they  were  streaming  in  pro- 
cessions from  the  different  points  of  the  Com- 
mon toward  him.     While   he  opened  his  small 

291 


Makers  of  Methodism 

Bible  and  preached  to  them,  without  'notes,' 
but  with  '  the  demonstration  of  the  Spirit  and  of 
power,'  the  multitude  grew  into  a  dense  mass 
three  thousand  strong,  eagerly  catching  every 
utterance  of  the  singular  stranger,  and  some  of 
them  receiving  his  message  into  '  honest  and 
good  hearts.'  " 

A  spectator  who  heard  him  at  or  about  this 
time  says:  "  When  he  stood  up  in  the  open  air 
and  beean  to  sinjr  I  knew  not  what  it  meant.  I 
drew  near,  however,  to  listen,  and  thought  the 
prayer  was  the  best  I  had  ever  heard.  .  .  . 
When  he  entered  upon  the  subject-matter  of 
his  text  it  was  with  such  an  easy,  natural  flow 
of  expression  and  in  such  a  tone  of  voice  that  I 
could  not  refrain  from  weeping,  and  many  others 
were  affected  in  the  same  way.  When  he  was 
done,  and  we  had  an  opportunity  of  expressing 
our  views  to  each  other,  it  was  agreed  that  such 
a  man  had  not  visited  New  England  since  the 
days  of  Whitefield.  I  heard  him  again,  and 
thought  I  could  follow  him  to  the  ends  of  the 
earth." 

The  coldly  intellectual  New  England  temper- 
ament seemed  not  as  congenial  to  the  germs 
of  Methodism  as  the  warm-hearted  sympathies 
of  the  Southern  and  Middle  States.  After  seven 
months  of  indefatigable  toil  the  result  of  Lee's 

labors  was  the  formation  of  but  two  classes,  with 

292 


Some  Earlv  Preachers  and  Bishops 

an  aggregate  of  five  members.  But  he  cheer- 
fully writes,  "  Glory  be  to  God  that  I  now  be- 
gin to  see  some  fruit  of  my  labor  in  this  barren 
part  of  the  world."  He  departed  on  his  way  to 
other  toils,  exclaiming  again  :  ' '  Glory  be  to  God 
that  he  ever  called  me  to  work  in  his  vineyard 
and  sent  me  to  seek  and  to  feed  the  sheep  of 
his  fold  in  New  England.  .  .  .  The  Lord  only 
knows  the  difficulties  I  have  had  to  wade 
through,  yet  his  grace  is  sufficient  for  me  ;  when 
I  pass  through  the  fire  and  water  he  is  with  me, 
and  rough  ways  are  smooth  when  Jesus  bears 
me  in  his  arms." 

Amid  the  inclemencies  of  a  cold  and  stormy 
day  he  set  out,  "and,"  he  writes  again,  "my 
soul  was  transported  with  joy  ;  the  snow  falling, 
the  wind  blowing,  prayer  ascending,  faith  in- 
creasing, grace  descending,  heaven  smiling,  and 
love  abounding." 

"  I  have  found  great  assistance  from  the  Lord 
of  late,  "he  continues.  "To-day  I  have  preached 
four  times,  and  felt  better  at  the  conclusion  of 
my  labor  than  I  did  when  I  first  arose  in  the 
morning.  ...  I  am  the  first  preacher  of  our 
way  that  has  ever  visited  this  part  of  the  coun- 
try." 

Before  long  the  genial,  happy,  hymn-singing 
Methodist,  who  preached  every  day,  and  often 
several   times  a  day  wherever  opportunity  of- 

293 


Makers  of  Methodism 

fered — in  barns,  kitchens,  at  the  crossroads,  by 
the  wayside,  in  schoolhouses,  and  sometimes  in 
the  courthouse  or  more  liberal  village  church, 
where  he  used  to  light  the  fire  and  ring  the 
bell  himself — overcame  even  Puritan  prejudice. 
The  hearty  singing  of  the  joyous  Methodist 
hymns  won  their  way  to  the  hearts  of  the  peo- 
ple. Though  the  elders  and  deacons  denounced 
him  as  a  heretic  and  an  Arminian,  yet  the  glad- 
some doctrine  brought  comfort  to  souls  bur- 
dened with  the  stern  theology  of  Calvin. 

Lee's  witty  repartee  sometimes  turned  the 
joke  on  those  who  attempted  to  interrupt  or 
' '  guy  "  him.  "The  pastor,  and  sometimes  the 
village  lawyer  or  doctor,  tested  him  with  Latin 
and  Greek  phrases.  He  responded  in  Dutch,  a 
knowledge  of  which  he  had  picked  up  in  his 
childhood.  They  supposed  this  to  be  Hebrew, 
and  retreated  or  took  sides  with  him  as  compe- 
tent to  preach.  But  above  all  he  was  evidently 
an  earnest  and  devout  man  ;  he  prayed  mightily 
and  preached  overwhelmingly." 

In  a  New  England  village  an  honest  black- 
smith kept  his  household  confined  at  home  ' '  lest 
they  should  become  infected  with  the  itinerant's 
supposed  heterodoxy."  A  little  lad  of  twelve 
years  of  age  was  not  allowed  to  hear  the  preacher, 
but  was  deeply  impressed  with  the  strange  tales 

of  his  work  of  faith  and  labor  of  love.     "  He 

294 


Some  Early  Preachers  and  Bishops 

was  destined  to  become  Lee's  greatest  successor 
in  this  very  field  and  to  do  more  important  serv- 
ices for  American  Methodism  than  an.y  other 
man  recorded  in  its  history  save  Asbury.  Such 
was  Dr.  Nathan  Bangs's  first  knowledge  of 
Methodism." 

The  following  anecdote,  referred  to  by  Dr. 
Stevens,  shows  Lee's  cheery  sense  of  humor. 
He  had  been  preaching  in  a  town  during  the 
session  of  the  court,  and  had  dealt  rather  faith- 
fully with  the  lawyers,  two  of  whom  were  dis- 
posed to  make  merry  at  his  expense.  While 
riding  along  to  another  appointment  he  per- 
ceived them  "hastening  after  him  on  horse- 
back, with  evident  expectations  of  amusement. 
They  entered  into  conversation  with  him  on  ex- 
temporaneous speaking.  *  Don't  you  often  make 
mistakes?'  'Yes.'  'Well,  what  do  you  do 
with  them — let  them  go?'  'Sometimes  I  do,' 
replied  the  preacher,  dryly ;  '  if  they  are  very 
important  I  correct  them  ;  if  not,  or  if  they  ex- 
press the  truth,  though  differently  from  what  J 
designed,  why,  I  often  let  them  go.  For  in- 
stance, if  in  preaching  I  should  wish  to  quote 
the  text  which  says,  ' '  The  devil  is  a  liar,  and 
the  father  of  it,"  and  should  happen  to  misquote 
it  and  say  he  was  a  "lawyer,"  etc.,  why,  it  is 
so  near  the  truth  I  should  probably  let  it  pass.' 

The  gentlemen  of  the  bar  looked  at  each  other 

295 


Makers  of  Methodism 

and  were  soon  in  advance,  hastening  on  their 
way." 

As  the  winter  came  on  it  was  too  cold  and 
stormy  to  preach  under  the  Boston  elm,  and  it 
was  almost  impossible  to  get  the  use  of  a  house, 
although  continuous  efforts  were  made  for  four 
weeks.  After  paying  his  board  Lee  had  but 
two  shillings  and  one  penny  left.  But,  he  adds, 
"  If  I  can  always  have  two  shillings  by  me  be- 
sides paying  all  I  owe  I  think  I  shall  be  satis- 
fied." 

"  No  man,"  says  Dr.  Stevens,  "  of  less  cheer- 
ful temperament  could  have  brooked  the  chilling 
treatment  he  encountered  while  traveling  the 
New  England  States  without  a  colleague  and 
without  sympathy.  This  solitariness  in  a  strange 
land,  often  without  the  stimulus  of  even  perse- 
cution, but  rendered  doubly  chilling  by  universal 
indifference  or  the  most  frigid  politeness,  was 
one  of  the  strongest  tests  of  his  character." 

Such  faithful  preaching  was  not  without  hal- 
lowed results.  In  many  of  the  towns  and  vil- 
lages of  New  England  little  companies  of 
Methodists  were  formed — as  at  Boston,  Lynn, 
Needham,  Providence,  Pawtucket,  Warren,  and 
Bristol.  By  the  beginning  of  this  century  nearly 
six  thousand  members  were  enrolled. 

Lee  continued  to  itinerate  as  far  as  the  head 

waters    of   the    Penobscot,    the    Kennebec,  the 

296 


Some  Early  Preachers  and  Bishops 

Merrimac,  and  the  Hudson,  and  even  into  the 
then  wilderness  of  Canada.  For  the  remaining 
sixteen  years  of  his  life  his  Conference  appoint- 
ments were  in  the  South,  but  he  was  permitted 
oneemore  to  visit  the  scene  of  his  early  triumphs 
and  trials,  the  now  flourishing  circuits  of  New 
England  jSIethodism.  Where  once  he  was  re- 
ceived with  coldness  and  disdain  he  was  now 
welcomed  with  heartiest  good  w- ill.  ' '  At  iSlon- 
mouth,  where  the  first  society  was  formed,"  he 
writes,"  they  cannot  get  into  the  house."  Many, 
after  the  service,  came  to  the  altar  to  give  him 
their  hands  in  pledge  of  meeting  him  in  heaven. 
"They  wept,  and  I  could  not  refrain  from 
weeping." 

He  labored  on  with  unflagging  zeal  to  the  very 
last.  After  preaching  at  a  camp  meeting  in 
Maryland  he  was  seized  with  a  chill,  which  was 
followed  by  a  fatal  fever.  His  illness  was  brief , 
but  his  end  was  joyous  and  triumphant.  So 
passed  away,  in  his  fifty-eighth  year,  one  of  the 
most  noteworthy  founders  of  Methodism  in  New 
England  or  the  jMiddle  States. 

Coke   and    Asbury,    the    pioneer    bishops   of 

American  Methodism,  were  soon  joined  by  noble 

comrades  in  office  and  in  toil.      Richard  What- 

coat  was  the  last  of  the  bishops  of  British  birth, 

and  but  for  a  short  time  bore  the  honors  and 

endured  the  labors  of  the  episcopate.     He  was 

297 


Makers  of  Methodism 

born  in  Clinton,  England,  in  1736.  He  was 
converted  in  early  manhood  and  became  class 
leader  and   steward  at  Wednesbury,  where  the 


BISHOP   WHATCOAT. 


Wesleys  and    Whitefield   had  been   so  bitterly 

persecuted. 

He  accompanied  Dr.  Coke  to  America  at  the 

close  of  the  Revolutionary  War,  and  throughout 

a  wide  region  administered  the  ordinances  of 

298 


Some  Early  Preachers  and  Bishops 

religion  to  a  people  who  had  been  long  without 
an  ordained  minister.  He  traveled  much  with 
Asbury,  from  Georgia  to  Maine,  and  in  1800 
was  elected  bishop,  the  votes  being  nearly 
equally  divided  between  him  and  Jesse  Lee.  He 
was  the  first  of  the  American  bishops  to  pass 
away,  dying  in  the  year  1806.  One  who  knew 
him  well  remarks :  "I  think  I  may  safely  say 
if  I  ever  knew  one  who  came  up  to  St.  James's 
description  of  a  perfect  man,  one  who  bridled 
his  tongue  and  kept  in  subjection  his  whole 
body,  that  man  was  Bishop  Whatcoat." 

William  McKendree  was  the  first  of  the  heroic 
band  of  native-born  bishops  of  the  ]\Iethodist 
Episcopal  Church.  He  was  a  preacher  of  tran- 
scendent power,  an  ecclesiastical  administrator 
of  almost  unrivaled  ability,  a  man  of  the  saint- 
liest  character,  and  was  the  chief  founder  of 
Methodism  in  the  great  and  growing  West. 
Like  Jesse  Lee  he  was  born  in  Virginia,  and 
about  the  same  time,  1757.  During  the  Revo- 
lutionary War  he  was  a  volunteer  in  the  service 
of  his  country.  He  entered  the  army  as  a  pri- 
vate, but  was  soon  advanced  to  the  rank  of  ad- 
jutant, and  was  present  at  the  surrender  of  Corn- 
wallis  at  Yorktown. 

In  1787,  tinder  the  preaching  of  John  Easter, 

famous  for  his  soul- stirring  eloquence,  he  was 

soundly  converted.    Easter  strongly  urged  him 

299 


BISHOP  MCKENDREE. 


Some  Early  Preachers  and  Bishops 

to  preach,  but  after  a  few  efforts  he  returned 
home  "  fearful  that  he  had  run  before  he  was 
called."  But  Bishop  Asbury  recognized  his 
innate  worth,  and  sent  forth  the  beardless  boy 
to  the  rugged  mountain  region  beyond  the 
Blue  Ridge,  and  through  Kentucky,  Tennessee, 
West  Virginia,  Ohio,  and  Illinois — "  a  region 
which  was  being  rapidly  settled,  with  a  popula- 
tion as  mixed  in  creed  as  Joseph's  coat  was  in 
colors."  Within  twelve  years  of  his  ordination 
he  became  one  of  the  foremost  men  of  American 
Methodism,  and  in  i8o<S,  at  fifty-one,  was  elec- 
ted fourth  bishop  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal 
Church.  His  evangeli-stic  zeal  and  wise  adminis- 
tration did  much  to  consolidate  the  growing 
Methodism  of  the  New  West. 

In  these  days  of  travel  in  Pullman  cars  it  is 
difficult  to  conceive  the  hardships  and  privations 
of  the  early  itinerancy.  The  pioneer  preacher 
was  exposed  to  perils  from  savage  beasts  and 
still  more  savage  men — the  hostile  Indians,  and 
sometimes  the  hostile  whites.  Often  he  slept 
upon  the  ground,  with  nothing  but  the  sky  and 
the  twinkling  stars,  those  "thoughts  of  God," 
above  his  head.  The  people  themselves  lived 
in  rude  .shacks,  or  shanties,  but  they  were 
o'lad  to  welcome  the  forest  itinerant  to  their 
humble    homes   and  to  share    with   him   their 

simple  fare. 

20  301 


r 


Makers  of  Methodism 

McKendree  was  a  man  of  magnetic  eloquence 
and  soul-saving  power.  When  called  to  preach 
before  the  General  Conference  in  1808,  such  was 
the  divine  unction  that  accompanied  the  word 
that  Bishop  Asbury  said  at  its  close,  "That 
sermon  will  make  McKendree  a  bishop."  And 
it  did.  Before  the  Conference  was  over  he  was 
elected  to  that  high  office,  which  carried  with  it 
only  preeminence  in  hardship  and  toil. 

The  time  had  now  come  for  the  more  thorougfh 
organization  of  American  Methodism ,  and  Bishop 
McKendree  was  the  ecclesiastical  statesman  by 
whom  this  was  to  be  accomplished.  Says  Dr. 
Lovejoy,  "  The  testimony  of  history  will  estab- 
lish the  truth  of  the  statement  that  from  1808  till 
to-day  the  wisdom  and  solidity  of  Methodism  as  a 
rational.  Scriptural  system  of  evangelical  propa- 
gandism  bear  the  ineffaceable  impress  of  Wil- 
liam McKendree." 

Hitherto  the  Annual  Conferences  claimed  the 
power  to  change  any  part  of  the  Discipline. 
Bishop  McKendree  saw  that,  to  use  the  words 
of  Dr.  Lovejoy,  "  Unless  a  permanent  basis  be 
established,  and  the  tie  that  binds  the  various 
parts  together  be  an  unvarying  quantity,  the 
unity  that  is  desired  becomes  a  hopeless  dream." 

With  the  aid  of  Jesse  Lee,  Joshua  Soule,  and 
other  wise  ecclesiastical  leaders.  Bishop  Mc- 
Kendree was  one  of  the  prime  movers  for  a 

302 


SuMK  Eaki.v  Freacuers  and  Bishops 

deleo-ated  General  Conference,  which  was  des- 
tined  to  give  a  unity  and  permanency  to  the 
leo-islation  of  Methodism.  For  twenty-seven 
years  he  continued  to  serve  with  unfaltering 
fidelity  and  unrestful  toil  the  rapidly  growing 
Church,  especially  in  the  vast  region  of  the  New 
West.  He  died  in  1835,  at  the  residence  of  his 
brother,  near  Nashville,  Tenn.  As  his  spirit 
passed  into  the  skies  his  latest  utterance  was, 
''  All  is  well." 

Enoch  George,  the  fifth  bishop  of  American 
Methodism,  was  also  born  in  the  Old  Dominion, 
which  has  given  so  many  distinguished  men  to 
both  Church  and  State.  Under  the  preaching  of 
the  same  John  Easter  wdio  was  the  means  of  the 
conversion  of  Bishop  McKendree  he  was  brought 
to  God.  He  was  called  of  God  and  the  Church 
to  preach  on  the  frontier.  He  was  sent  by 
Bishop  Asbury  to  form  a  circuit  in  the  pic- 
turesque mountain  region  of  the  Catawba  and 
Broad  Rivers  in  North  Carolina.  On  the  death 
of  Bishop  Asbury,  in  18 16,  Enoch  George  and 
Robert  Roberts  were  elected  to  carry  on  the 
supervision  of  the  growing  Church.  On  account 
of  ill  ■  health  Bishop  George  was  unable  to  per- 
form the  prodigies  of  toil  of  his  predecessors. 
He  was,  however,  a  man  of  earnest  piety,  of 
great  simplicity  of  manner,  a  pathetic  and 
powerful  preacher ;    greatly  beloved  in  life  and 

303 


Makers  of  Methodism 

much  lamented  in  death.  He  passed  away  after 
twelve  years  of  episcopal  service. 

Robert  Richford  Roberts,  who  was  elected 
bishop  with  Enoch  George  at  the  General  Con- 
ference of  1816,  was  born  in  Maryland  in  1778. 
Converted  at  the  age  of  fifteen,  he  began  while 
yet  a  youth  to  exercise  his  gifts  and  graces  for  the 
glory  of  God.  He  soon  reached  prominence,  and 
filled  appointments  in  Baltimore,  Georgetown, 
and  Philadelphia.  He  was  the  first  married  man 
in  America  who  was  elected  bishop.  It  was  not 
for  worldly  emolument  that  men  accepted  that 
high  office.  The  official  salary  being  exceed- 
ingly small,  Bishop  Roberts  derived  his  sup- 
port chiefly  from  a  farm  which  he  owned  in 
Pennsylvania,  he  himself,  meanwhile,  traveling 
extensively  from  Maine  to  Mississippi.  Pie  was 
eminently  a  good  man,  full  of  faith  and  the 
Holy  Ghost.  These  extensive  travels  and 
labors  he  maintained  for  seven  and  twenty 
years. 

But  time  would  fail  to  enumerate  the  great 
and  godly  men  who  succeeded  to  the  high  office 
and  strenuous  toil  of  the  American  episcopate. 
At  the  General  Conference  of  1824  Joshua  Soule 
and  Elijah  Hedding  were  added  to  the  number. 
The  Church  went  far  north  for  one  of  these  new 
bishops.  Joshua  Soule  was  born  in  Bristol, 
Me.,    in    1781,   and  was  licensed  to  preach   at 

304 


SoMi-:  Earlv  Preachers  and  IJisiiops 

the  early  ag'c  of  seventeen.  With  McKendree 
he  shared  the  honor  of  being  the  author  of  the 
plan  for  a  delegated  General  Conferenee.  At 
the  separation  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal 
Church,  South,  in  1844,  Bishop  Soule  re- 
mained with  his  Southern  brethren,  and  con- 
tinued till  enfeebled  by  age  to  exercise  his 
episcopal  functions.  He  was  a  man  of  superior 
intellect  and  of  great  energy.  He  was  a  use- 
ful, popular,  and  sometimes  an  overwhelming 
preacher  and  an  able  administrator. 

Elijah  Hedding,  elected  bishop  at  the  same 
General  Conference  as  Joshua  Soule,  was  born 
in  Dutchess  County,  N  Y.,  in  1780.  As  a 
youth,  being  a  good  scholar  for  the  times,  he 
was  appointed  to  read  on  vSunday  afternoon  one 
of  Wesley's  sermons  to  the  little  village  com- 
munity in  A'ermont,  wdiither  his  father's  family 
had  removed.  The  conversation  of  a  pious  lady 
led  to  his  conversion  and  to  his  entering  upon  a 
ministry  of  great  usefulness  and  power.  After 
his  election  as  bishop  he  discharged  with  great 
ability  the  duties  of  his  office  for  nearly  twenty- 
eight  years.  He  was  prompt  in  duty,  wise  in 
counsel,  and  of  earnest  piety.  "  Anxious  days 
and  sleepless  nights  and  strong  intercessions 
with  God  showed  his  deep  solicitude  for  the 
prosperity  of  the  churches." 

For  fifty-one  years  he  bore  the  toils  and  bur- 

305 


Makers  of  Methodism 

dens  of  itinerancy,  as  elder  and  bishop  travers- 
ing the  continent  from  Penobscot,  in  Maine,  to 
the  Colorado,  in  Texas.  He  writes  thus  of  his 
labors : 

"  I  have  averaged  over  three  thousand  miles' 
travel  a  year  and  preached  on  an  average  a  ser- 
mon a  day  since  I  commenced  the  itinerant  life. 
I  have  never  in  this  time  owned  a  traveling 
vehicle  but  have  ridden  on  horseback,  except 
occasionally  in  winter,  when  I  have  borrowed  a 
sleio-h,  and  also  a  few  instances  in  which  1  have 
traveled  by  public  conveyance  or  a  borrowed  car- 
riage. I  have  both  labored  hard  and  fared  hard. 
Until  recently  I  have  had  no  dwelling  place  or 
home;  but,  as  a  wayfaring  man,  lodged  from 
night  to  night  where  hospitality  and  friendship 
opened  the  way.  I  have  traveled  many  a  day  in 
summer  and  winter  without  dinner  because  I 
had  not  a  quarter  of  a  dollar  that  I  could  spare 
to  buy  it.  Such  are  some  of  the  difficulties  the 
Methodist  preachers  have  been  compelled  to 
encounter,  especially  in  New  England,  during 
the  past  ten  years.  But,  notwithstanding  all, 
God  has  been  with  us.  Revivals  have  spread 
through  all  the  country,  and  multitudes  have 
been  added  to  the  little  and  despised  flock." 

This  life  of  toil  he  kept  up  till  his  seventy- 
first   year.     In    his  last  illness  he  had   special 

revelations  of  the  love  of  God.     His  dying  testi- 

306 


SoMK  Eaklv  Preachers  amj  Bisiiui's 

mony  is  as  follows :  "  I  have  served  God  more 
than  fifty  years.  I  have  generally  had  peaee,. 
but  I  never  saw  such  glory  before,  such  light, 
and  such  gloriousness,  such  beauty !  O,  I  want 
to  tell  it  to  all  the  world !  O,  had  I  a  trumpet 
voice, 

'  Then  would   I  It- 11  to  sinners  round 
What  a  dear  Saviour  I  have  found  !' 

"  For  clear  and  vStrong  intellect,  broad  and  com- 
manding views,  administrative  ability,  and  deep 
devotion,  combined  with  amiability  and  gentle- 
ness, Bishop  Hedding  has  had  few  equals,  and 
possibly  no  superiors,  in  the  Church." 

The  last  of  the  IMethodist  bishops  whose  career 
we  will  here  sketch  is  John  Emory.  He  was 
born  in  Maryland  in  1789,  and  was  converted  in 
his  seventeenth  year  and  joined  the  Methodist 
Church.  His  father  had  designed  him  for  the 
study  of  law  and  he  had  received  a  thorough 
academical  and  collegiate  training.  He,  how- 
ever, gave  up  worldly  prospects  of  wealth  and 
fame  to  become  a  Methodist  preacher.  His 
father  strongly  opposed  his  resolution,  refused 
him  a  horse  with  which  to  fare  forth  as  a  "  cir- 
cuit rider,"  and  declined  for  two  years  to  hear 
him  preach,  or  even  to  receive  letters  from  him. 

But  the  young  itinerant  enjoyed  the  consola- 
tions of  the  grace  of  God.     The  energy  and  abil- 

307 


BISHOP  EMORY. 


Some  Early  Preachers  and  Bishops 

ity  which  would  have  won  him  success  at  the 
bar  were  devoted  to  the  service  of  the  Methodist 
Church  in  some  of  its  leading  appointments 
in  Philadelphia,  Wilmington,  Baltimore,  and 
Washington.  In  1820  he  was  sent  as  represen- 
tative to  the  British  Conference,  in  1824  was  ap- 
pointed Book  Agent  with  Nathan  Bangs,  and  in 
1832  was  elected  bishop.  His  faithful  discharge 
of  the  duties  of  this  high  calling  was  brought  to 
a  tragical  close  in  three  short  years.  While  rid- 
ing to  his  home  near  Baltimore  he  was  thrown 
out  of  his  carriage  and  was  found  bleeding  and 
insensible  by  the  roadside,  and  in  a  few  hours 
he  passed  away. 

The  number  of  great  and  noble  men  who 
reached  the  high  office  of  bishop  in  the  Metho- 
dist Episcopal  Church  has  grown  so  great  that 
we  can  simply  give  their  names  and  dates  of 
their  election  in  the  following  tabular  list. 

309 


Makers  of  Methodism 

list  of  bishops  of  the  methodist  episcopal 
church  from  1832. 

Name.  Born. 

James  O.  Andrew 1 794 

Beverly  Waugh 1789 

Thomas  A.  Morris 1794 

Leonidas  L.  Hamline 1797 

Edmund  S.  Janes 1 807 

Levi  Scott 1802 

Matthew  Simpson 181 1 

Osmon  C.  Baker 1812 

Edward  R.  Ames 1806 

Francis  Burns 1809 

Davis  W.  Clark 1S12 

Edward  Thomson 1810 

Calvin  Kingsley 1812 

John  W.  Roberts 1S12 

Thomas  Bowman 1817 

William  L.  Harris 1817 

Randolph  S.  Foster 1820 

Isaac  W.  Wiley 1825 

Stephen  M.  Merrill 1825 

Edward  G.  Andrews 1825 

Gilbert  Haven 1821 

Jesse  T.  Peck 181 1 

Henry  W.  Warren 1831 

Cyrus  D.  Foss 1834 

John  F.  Hurst 1834 

Erastus  O.  Haven 1820 

William  X.  Ninde 1832 

John  M.  Walden 1831 

WiUard  F.  Mallalieu 1828 

Charles  H.  Fowler 1S37 

John  H.  Vincent 1832 

James  N.  FitzGerald 1837 

Isaac  W.  Joyce 1836 

John  P.  Newman 1826 

Daniel  A.  Goodsell 1840 

Charles  C.  McCabe 1836 

Earl  Cranston 1S40 

William  Taylor 1S21 

James  M.  Thoburn 1836 

Joseph  C.  Hartzell 1842 

310 


Elected 

Bishop. 

Died. 

1832 

1871 

1S36 

1858 

1836 

1874 

1844 

1865 

1844 

1876 

1852 

1882 

1852 

1884 

1S52 

1871 

1852 

1879 

1858 

1863 

1864 

187I 

1S64 

1870 

1864 

1870 

1866 

1875 

1872 

•  •  •  • 

1872 

1887 

1872 

.... 

1872 

1884 

1S72 

.  •  .  . 

1872 

.... 

1872 

.... 

1872 

•  •  •  * 

1880 

•  •  ■  ■ 

1880 

•  •  •  • 

1880 

•  >  •  • 

1880 

1881 

1884 

•  •  a  • 

1884 

•  a  a  • 

1884 

•  a  a  . 

1884 

•  .  •  . 

1S88 

•  a  .  . 

1888 

•  ■  •  ■ 

1888 

«  •  •  - 

1888 

.  •  .  . 

1888 

a  •  a  a 

1896 

.  •  a  • 

i8g6 

•  •  •  a 

1884 

•  •  •  a 

1888 

•  •  •  • 

1S96 

•  •  •  ■* 

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